UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


td  UA\W   ' 


/ry 


k  iL-or  t^-  '•  U/c"T< 


CARLTON  E.   SANFORD 


Otters,  €ssaps 


AND 


BiograpMcal  Sketches 


C.  E.  SANFORD 


. 

r  «.  "  r 


THE  SARATOGIAN  PRINT 
Saratoga  Springs,  N.  Y. 


preface 

A  very  large  part  of  the  articles  contained  in  this  volume 
5J  were  first  printed   in   the   Courier  and  Freeman   newspaper 

at   Potsdam,   New   York,   at  divers   times    during   the   past 
CN  thirty  years.     As  will  be  observed,  some  are  written  in  the 

first    person,  others     in    the   second    person     plural,  while 
others  are  in  the  third  person.     I  may  be  wrong,  but  after 
some  reflection,  I  do  not  think  it  best  to  now  change  them  in 
X  this  respect  from  the  form  in  which  they  were  first  written. 

If  my  readers  will  keep  in  mind  the  fact  that  they  were  writ 
ten  here  in  the  village  of  Potsdam,  about  it  and  its  people 
and  affairs,  some  appearing  as  editorials  and  others  as  com- 

*VJ 

munications,  I  feel  sure  no  trouble  will  arise  from  this  in- 
^  consistency. 

t^  Scattered  through  many  of  the  articles  are  items  of  a  his- 

>  torical  nature  which,  through  lapse  of  time,  are  already  be- 

^  coming  of  interest.    To  preserve  these  for  the  future,  mingled 

with  the  hope  that  the  volume  may  afford  pleasure  to  a  few 

and  be  of  interest  to  others,  has  induced,  and  is  my  only 

J%.          excuse  for  its  publication. 

C.  E.  SANFORD. 
v  Potsdam,  N.  Y.,  July,  1907. 


In  the  memory  of  my  father,  Hon.  Jonah  Sanford,  Jr.,  a 
bright  and  sensible  man,  who  strove  to  help  his  children, 
and  of  my  mother,  Clarinda  (Risdon)  Sanford,  a  gentle  and 
noble  woman,  this  work  is  feelingly  inscribed. 


CONTENTS 

Wherein  Lies  Greatness? 1 

Checker  Playing 11 

A  "  Sitting  "  with  Dr.  Henry  Blade 15 

Flag  Presentation  25 

Hon.  Jonah  Sanf ord 34 

Was  Conkling  Invited? 39 

Permelia  S.  Brooks 43 

The  Sewers  and  Board  of  Trustees 46 

License  or  No-License? 59 

Prayer  in  War 72 

Henry  Gurley  Brooks 76 

Shooting  Does   80 

Hon.  William  A.  Dart 85 

Aching  for  War 91 

Elliott  Fay 99 

Will  War  Ever  Cease? 105 

Mother   110 

On  the  Lawn  with  the  Birds 113 

Hon.  George  Z.  Erwin 125 

Oyster  Farming 133 

Thomas  S.  Clark-son. .  ,  143 


yi  Contents 

Athens  Versus  Bull  Dogs 149 

Hon.  Charles  0.  Tappan 156 

Hon.  Erasmus  D.  Brooks 162 

"  Peel  "  Willey,  Examination  of 169 

Hon.  John  Gr.  Mclntyre 174 

Mary  P.  Foster 179 

An  Outing  in  Canada 182 

Hon.  William  McKinley 206 

Daniel  Webster.    Power  of  Magnificent  Pres 
ence  211 

Judge  Leslie  W.  Russell 214 

Japan  and  Eussia.    Is  War  a  Divine  Method!  222 

The  Spider  and  Man 233 

A  Mexican  Bull  Fight 246 

Some  Sketches  of  California 257 

Santa  Catalina  Island 271 

Ascent  of  Mount  Lowe. 275 

A  Visit  to  the  Lick  Observatory,  &c 280 

Oeorge  S.  Wright 286 

Lincoln's  Gettysburg  Address 291 

Dr.  Reynold  M.  Kirby 302 

Abbie  S.  Landers 307 

The  Farmer  Boys  of  Fifty  Years  Ago  and 

Now 311 

Trusts  and1  Combinations . .  .  379 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Carlton  E.  Sanf ord Frontispiece 

Col.  Jonah  Sanford 25 

Jonah  Sanf  ord,  Jr 34 

Permelia  S.  Brooks 43 

Hosea  Bicknell 46 

William  H.  Walling 51 

Charles  L.  Hackett 54 

Henry  Gurley  Brooks 76 

William  A.  Dart 85 

Elliot  Fay 99 

George  Z.  Erwin 125 

Charles  0.  Tappan 156 

Erasmus  D.  Brooks 162 

John  G.  Mclntyre  174 

Judge  Leslie  W.  Russell 214 

Bull  Ring 246 

Lick  Observatory 280 

George  S.  Wright 286 

Dr.  Reynold  M.  Kirby 302 

Abbie  S.  Landers 307 

Carlton  E.  and  Silas  H.  Sanford 311 

Pulling  Off  Boots 324 

Spelling  Class 324 

Painting  the  Rooster 334 

Washing  Boy's  Feet 334 

Boy  Inside  Barrel 352 

Boy  After  Cows— Thistles  in  Feet 352 

Boy  Milking 364 

Teaching  Calves  to  Drink 364 


Wherein  lies  (Sreatness? 


I 


AM  aware  that  my  views  on  this  all  im 
portant  subject  are  not  in  accordance 
with  the  belief  'of  many;  however,  I  feel 
at  liberty  in  this  age  of  "  free  speech 
and  free  press  "  to  express  them  as  best  I  can. 
Were  a  young  man  to  put  the  above  interrogatory 
to  a  hundred  men,  nine-tenths  of  them  would 
answer,  Greatness  lies  in  labor. 

Now  this  article  does  not  deny  that  labor  is 
essential  to  greatness,  but  it  does  deny,  and  will 
endeavor  to  show,  that  it  is  not  the  chief  requi 
site  of  greatness.  As  I  shall  confine  my  remarks 
to  man,  it  perhaps  would  not  be  amiss  to  inquire 
what  is  man,  and  what  are  his  functions?  Ac 
cording  to  the  Scriptures,  he  is  a  rational  being, 
fashioned  after  the  image  of  his  Maker,  and  en 
dowed  with  certain  abilities.  According  to 
chemistry,  he  is  a  shovelful  of  earth  and  a  pailful 
of  water. 

Be  his  composition  what  it  may,  his  essential 
characteristics,  above  all  other  species  of  being, 
are  his  erect  position,  powers  of  speech,  and 
ability  for  reasoning.  Now  the  first  and  last  of 

•Phrenological  Journal,  March,  1871. 


Letters-Essays 


these  peculiarities  are,  beyond  a  doubt,  inherent 
in  man's  organization. 

Again:  man  was  endowed  with  these  and  other 
powers  that  he  might  make  all  things  subservient 
to  his  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral  growth. 
If,  as  they  would  have  us  believe,  intellectual 
greatness  lies  in  labor,  then  the  positions  once  oc 
cupied  by  Shakespeare,  Milton,  and  Newton,  be 
ing  open  to  all,  are  within  the  reach  of  those  who 
labor.  If  this  be  true,  we  must  have  many 
Shakespeares  and  Miltons ;  but,  alas !  where  is  the 
second  "  Julius  Caesar  "  or  "  Paradise  Lost  "  ? 

Unfortunately,  for  some,  this  is  not  the  case, 
and  this  paper  will  attempt  to  prove  that  su 
perior  intellect  or  greatness  lies  behind  man,  so 
to  speak,  in  Him  who  created  him.  All  that  is 
required  to  do  this  is  to  show  that  the  dissimi 
larity  existing  among  men,  not  only  in  outward 
resemblance,  but  in  intellectual  powers,  originates 
in  their  native  constitution. 

Now,  there  are  some  so  bigoted  or  prejudiced  in 
favor  of  old  doctrines,  that  reasoning  is  to  them 
a  delusion.  They  claim  that  every  man  makes 
himself,  and  are  contented  with  their  belief.  If 
perseverance,  as  they  say,  is  alone  the  donor  of 
greatness,  we  must  have  many  unknown  Frank 
lins  scattered  through  the  land,  for  there  are 
many  men  who  are  striving  as  hard  as  he  ever 
did  to  become  enlightened,  but  who,  wanting  na 
ture's  strong  aid,  must  live  and  die  in  obscurity. 
Now  all  that  is  required  to  convince  them  of 


Wherein  Lies  Greatness? 


their  error  and  of  the  fallacy  of  their  theory  is 
observation.  But  as  they  do  not  wish  to  put 
themselves  to  so  slight  a  trouble,  let  us  look  at 
the  subject  from  a  general  standpoint.  There 
are  now  something  over  one  billion  of  human 
beings  living  upon  the  same  food,  breathing  the 
same  air,  and  warmed  by  the  same  solar  body. 
And  yet  no  one  claims  that  any  two  are  alike 
either  in  disposition,  passion,  wisdom,  or  in  any 
of  the  peculiarities  of  man.  How  has  this  great 
dissimilarity  come  about?  Were  all  men  created 
with  equal  powers,  all  the  training  that  could  be 
devised  by  the  ingenious  mind  of  man  could  not 
bring  about  such  a  dissimilitude.  But  I  hear 
them  cry,  "  Circumstances  alter  cases."  Yes,  I 
grant  it;  but  they  can  not  destroy — they  only 
modify  what  nature  decrees  and  constructs. 

They  tell  you  circumstances  make  men,  when 
these  rather  offer  opportunities  for  men  to  show 
their  abilities.  You  may  turn  the  stream  from  its 
course,  but  you  can  not  prevent  its  onward  pro 
gress  to  the  sea.  You  may  allure  a  mathematical 
genius  from  his  Euclid  for  a  moment  with  classi 
cal  mythology  only  that  he  shall  return  to  his  old 
love  with  the  greater  zest.  Eeally,  circumstances 
work  marvelous  changes,  yet  they  can  not  cre 
ate — they  only  affect.  You  may  conceal  a  fire 
with  ashes,  but  you  do  not  extinguish  it — you 
only  make  it  the  warmer  inside.  Just  so  a 
stranger  in  a  foreign  land  will  in  time  forget  his 
own  tongue;  nevertheless  his  genius  for  mathe- 


Letters-Essays 


matics,  poetry,  painting,  or  whatever  it  may  be, 
is  not  destroyed. 

Do  circumstances  create  this  dissimilarity? 
Let  us  see.  Let  us  go  into  a  thriving  village 
where  the  general  circumstances  are  the  same. 
Churches,  schools,  laws,  customs,  news-rooms,  and 
dramshops  are  alike  to  all.  But  lo!  this  same 
dissimilarity  exists.  There  are  moral,  wicked,  in 
telligent,  unintelligent,  industrious  and  indolent 
people  here  as  elsewhere.  But,  they  say,  the  poor 
can  not,  or  do  not,  associate  with  the  rich,  and 
thus  two  classes  are  made.  To  some  extent  this 
is  true.  But  let  us  go  farther.  Let  us  peep  within 
a  private  household,  governed  by  the  same  head, 
and  watched  over  by  the  same  tender,  motherly 
care.  Here  circumstances  can  not  be  brought  to 
bear,  for  the  same  mother  nurses  them  in  their 
youth,  watches  over  them  in  their  childhood,  and 
advises  them  without  partiality.  But  are  they 
alike  in  every  particular  ?  Most  certainly  not,  and 
it  would  be  idle  to  argue  it.  Many  are  the  cler 
gymen's  sons  who  lead  a  miserable  life  in  dram 
shops  and  gambling  dens,  after  all  the  Christian 
training  and  good  moral  lessons  they  have  re 
ceived.  How  is  it?  They  have  turned  their  backs 
on  noble  circumstances  and  taken  the  hand  of 
vice  and  crime.  They  can  not  cry,  "  Oh!  the  way 
the  twig  is  bent  the  tree  is  inclined,"  for  the 
twig  was  started  upright,  and  no  saplings  of  vice 
were  allowed  to  take  root  near  it. 

There  is  no  perfect  man,  and  consequently  all 


\ 
Wherein  Lies  Greatness?  5 

men  have  more  or  less  of  those  passions  which 
are  akin  to  evil.  These  are  what  bend  the  human 
twig,  and  if  they  are  stronger  than  his  resolution, 
he  is  a  vagabond.  Since  they  claim  there  are 
two  classes,  viz.,  the  rich  and  poor,  let  us  enter 
the  poor  man's  hut. 

There,  in  one  corner,  sits  a  studious  youth 
poring  over  his  lessons.  In  another  part  of  the 
room  are  his  brothers  quarreling  over  a  misdeal 
at  euchre,  or  spending  their  time  in  some  other 
unprofitable  manner.  How  came  the  former  with 
such  a  burning  desire  for  knowledge,  and  the  lat 
ter  with  such  a  hatred  for  study,  after  being 
brought  up  under  the  same  roof  and  circum 
stances?  Tell  me,  ye  who  believe  in  equal  in 
tellectual  powers.  I  have  not  pictured  an  uncom 
mon  instance.  Far  from  it.  Many  similar  ex 
amples  are  recorded  in  history,  and  many  are  yet 
to  be  recorded.  I  have  only  to  cite  you  to  the 
early  childhood  days  of  Horace  Greeley,  one  of 
America's  leading  benefactors.  Who  does  not 
fancy  he  can  now  see  him,  as  biography  states  it, 
lying  upon  the  floor  of  their  humble  cottage,  and 
by  the  light  of  a  pine-knot  intently  at  study  not 
withstanding  the  annoyances  of  his  playing  com 
panions.  Tell  me  if  the  lad  of  a  poor  but  indus 
trious  family  of  Kentucky,  to  whom  neither  acad 
emy  nor  college  was  ever  opened,  and  who  spent 
his  youth  in  clearing  the  forest,  and  his  full  man 
hood  in  guiding  the  councils  of  his  country 
through  a  great  war,  did  not  rise  up  in  a  similar 


Letters-Essays 


manner?  He  had  little  or  no  schooling,  and 
scarcely  any  books  with  which  to  awaken  in  him 
a  thirst  for  knowledge.  Circumstances  were 
against  him;  but  he  had  within  him  that  which 
education  can  not  supply,  that  which  is  bound 
to  lift  man  above  circumstances  and  his  fellow- 
man.  That  the  powers  which  have  made  such  men 
great  and  famous  were  innate  seems  to  me  con 
clusive.  But  now  they  tell  us  education  creates 
this  dissimilarity.  Let  us  see. 

Take,  for  instance,  two  men  equally  well  edu 
cated  in  the  same  medical  school.  You  go  to  one 
and  tell  him  your  ills,  and,  as  best  you  can,  what 
the  trouble  is.  He  listens  attentively,  examines 
your  pulse,  looks  at  your  tongue  and  says  you 
are  threatened  with  a  fever,  and  gives  you  a  dose 
which  he  thinks  will  break  it  up.  Time  passes 
along,  but  you  do  not  get  any  better,  and  so  you 
go  and  see  the  other.  He  goes  through  with  the 
same  investigations  and  says  you  have  all  the 
symptoms  of  apoplexy. 

Take  another  instance.  Here  are  two  reverend 
gentlemen,  both  well  educated,  who  are  spend 
ing  their  lives  in  studying  the  Holy  Book  and 
preaching  its  precepts.  One  goes  from  place  to 
place  preaching  the  existence  of  a  place  of  pun 
ishment  in  the  hereafter ;  while  the  other  preaches 
that  there  is  no  such  place  as  "  hell."  Thus  we 
find  mental  differences  in  every  department  of 
life,  which  lie  in  the  native  constitution  of  men. 
There  is  the  source  or  fountain-head  of  in- 


Wherein  Lies  Greatness? 


tellectual  greatness  and  also  of  intellectual  infe 
riority.  Therein,  to  a  great  extent,  lie  man's 
character,  principles,  and  acts  in  life;  and  these 
are  the  catalogue  of  the  man.  If  in  a  man 
judgment  is  wanting,  he  is  like  a  vessel  at  sea 
without  a  rudder.  If  he  is  wanting  reason,  he 
is  like  an  engine  without  a  governor.  If  he  is 
wanting  ambition,  he  is  like  an  engine  without 
steam.  But  if  he  has  all  the  powers  or  faculties 
so  blended  or  united  that  each  works  for  the  good 
of  the  others,  he  will  pass  on  like  the  giant  loco 
motive,  carrying  with  him  multitudes  who  are 
ready  and  willing  to  pay  him  homage  and  ap 
plaud  his  greatness.  All  history  proves  this,  tra 
dition  corroborates  it,  and  observation  will  con 
firm  it.  Just  look  back  upon  the  vast  expanse 
of  time,  and  of  that  multitude  of  humanity  who 
have  lived  and  perished,  and  see  how  many 
gained  that  fame  which  time  can  not  destroy. 
For  every  one  that  yet  lives,  I  venture  to  say  a 
hundred  thousand  are  sleeping  in  forgotten 
graves,  and  "  the  places  that  once  knew  them 
know  them  no  more."  Here  and  there  we  see 
bright  stars  on  which  are  written  in  ineffaceable 
letters  such  names  as  Homer,  Shakespeare,  Mil 
ton,  and  Newton.  They  were  extraordinary  men, 
possessing  abilities  far  superior  to  nearly  all  of 
their  fellow-men.  The  Creator  lavished  upon 
them  His  greatest  bounty — a  giant  intellect.  The 
theory  of  equal  powers  is  a  delusion,  and,  thank 
Heaven,  it  is  fast  dying  out. 


8  Letters-Essays 


It  is  said  that  no  man  could  meet  Daniel  Web 
ster  without  saying,  ''He  is  an  extraordinary 
man."  His  every  feature  and  movement  struck 
you  as  being  singularly  grand.  His  high,  mas 
sive  forehead  was  alone  sufficient,  says  a  cotem- 
porary,  "  to  impress  any  one  with  a  feeling  of 
admiration."  And  this  man,  by  some  thought 
to  be  America's  greatest  son,  had  the  next  largest 
brain  on  record.  I  do  not  claim  that  every  in 
telligent  man  has  a  large  brain.  Far  from  it. 
A  small  brain  may  be  so  evenly  balanced  as  to 
bring  forth  better  results  than  many  larger  ones. 

Many  strong  minds  have  gone  down  to  ruin 
on  account  of  their  lower  powers  being  predom 
inant.  The  towering  forehead,  keen  eye,  and  ex 
pressive  countenance  are  all  the  work  of  the  Cre 
ator  through  nature,  as  are  also  all  of  the  in 
tellectual  powers.  She  molds  the  man  and  gives 
to  each  certain  abilities.  And  when  it  is  said 
that  to  her  we  owe  all  that  we  are  and  all  that 
we  may  be,  my  conscientious  belief  is  expressed. 

But  in  all  that  has  been  said,  the  writer  does 
not  wish  to  be  understood  as  disparaging  any 
young  man  from  getting  an  education.  It  is  his 
right,  his  duty,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  every  intelli 
gent  man  to  assist  him.  Because  a  man  has 
meager  powers,  it  is  no  reason  why  he  should 
forsake  their  culture.  So  much  the  more  he 
should  strive  to  become  enlightened  that  he  may 
appreciate  the  intelligence  of  others.  There  are 
but  few  men  who  can  not  by  persistent  effort  be- 


Wherein  Lies  Greatness? 


come  masters  of  some  branch  in  the  world's  work. 
Stephenson,  it  is  said,  could  neither  read  nor 
write,  yet  by  untiring  perseverance  he  came  off 
victorious  and  was  one  of  the  world's  greatest 
benefactors. 

Some  men  look  with  contempt  upon  those  whom 
nature  has  not  so  well  favored.  Such  can  not  be 
aware  that  small  minds  are  as  essential  to  the 
world's  equilibrium  as  large  ones.  Were  every 
man  either  a  Johnson  or  a  Butler,  the  world 
would  be  in  continual  dissension  and  turmoil. 
Every  man  would  consider  his  views  to  be  the 
more  beneficial  to  the  country.  Every  rock  and 
stump  in  the  land  would  support  a  shouting 
orator.  The  plowshare  would  rust  in  the  furrow, 
the  fire  go  out  in  the  forge,  and  the  gutters  would 
fill  up  with  filth.  But  fortunately  this  dilemma 
will  never  occur,  as  the  Creator  has  decreed 
otherwise. 

A  word  to  the  young  man,  and  I  am  done.  Of 
all  the  sermons  ever  uttered,  there  are  none  bet 
ter  for  you  than  this:  "  Know  thyself."  From 
the  fact  that  observation  teaches  us  that  different 
men  are  constituted  by  the  Creator  with  differ 
ent  aptitudes  for  different  pursuits,  it  behooves 
every  young  man  to  study  himself,  to  learn  if 
possible  for  what  calling  nature  has  best 
equipped  him.  When  he  has  determined  this,  he 
should  give  a  loose  rein  to  that  spirit  which 
throbs  within  him  and  bend  every  power  to  make 
it  a  success,  remembering  that — 


10  Letters-Essays 


"  One  science  only  can  one  genius  fit, 
So  vast  is  art,  so  narrow  human  wit." 
Learn  to  bridle  those  passions  or  powers  which 
would  lead  you  astray,  otherwise  your  attempt 
is  an  almost  certain  failure.  All  men  seem  to 
have  a  passion  for  becoming  distinguished;  but 
as  eminence  is  only  allotted  to  a  few,  patience 
of  obscurity  is  a  duty  we  owe  to  ourselves  and 
to  the  quiet  of  the  world.  If  you  take  as  your 
motto  "  justice  and  perseverance,"  you  may  at 
last  burst  forth  into  light;  "  but  if  frequent  fail 
ure  convinces  you  of  that  mediocrity  of  nature 
which  is  incompatible  with  great  actions,  submit 
wisely  and  cheerfully  to  your  lot." 

NOTE — The  foregoing  was  written  long  ago  when  I  was 
younger.  My  observations  since  would  lead  me  now  to 
give  more  credit  to  labor.  A  boy  of  fair  abilities  pos 
sessing  indomitable  perseverance,  will  get  further  and  higher 
and  accomplish  more  than  a  boy  of  great  ability  who  lacks 
perseverance. 


Checker  placing 


N  a  recent  evening  in  Firemen's  Hall,  in 
Potsdam,  Mr.  J.  Dempster,  a  young  man 
of  about  thirty  years,  who  hails  from 
Jefferson  County,  gave  an  exhibition  of 
checker  playing — memorizing  and  reasoning — 
which  excelled  anything  of  the  kind  I  have  ever 
seen.  He  has  five  checker  boards  about  two  and 
a  half  feet  square,  with  the  squares  on  which  the 
men  are  moved  numbered  consecutively  in  large 
figures  from  one  to  thirty-two.  The  men  are 
held  in  place  by  a  pin  inserted  in  a  hole  in  the 
board.  The  boards  stand  upright  against  the 
wall,  so  that  spectators  can  witness  the  playing. 

By  his  bills  he  invites  five  of  the  best  local 
players  to  be  present  and  test  their  wits  with 
him.  He  was  quite  fortunate  here  in  getting 
good  players.  Our  best,  or  at  least  those  who 
have  taken  great  delight  heretofore  in  getting 
their  fellows  into  a  hole,  a  corner  or  some  sort 
of  situation  from  which  there  was  no  escape  but 
annihilation,  and  who  have  made  many  a  poor 
fellow  stew  and  perspire,  rub  his  eyes  and 
scratch  his  head,  in  his  endeavor  to  study  his  way 
out,  were  on  hand.  On  this  occasion  each  of  the 


12  Letters-Essays 


five  local  heroes  took  a  seat  in  front  of  the  five 
boards.  Mr.  Dempster  sat  over  in  the  corner  of 
the  room  to  the  right  of  and  with  his  back  to  the 
boards.  He  did  not  turn  about  during  the  play 
ing  and  had  he  done  so  it  would  have  been  of  no 
help  to  him  as  he  could  not  have  seen  the  face 
of  the  boards.  He  offered  to  be  blindfolded,  but 
as  all  were  satisfied  he  could  not  see  the  boards 
it  was  dispensed  with.  A  person  was  selected  to 
do  the  moving  of  the  men  for  Mr.  Dempster  and 
the  playing  began,  Mr.  Dempster  taking  the  first 
move  on  all  the  boards.  Then  local  player  num 
ber  one  moved,  stating  the  number  from  which 
and  to  which  he  moved  his  man,  so  that  Mr. 
Dempster  could  hear  it.  Mr.  Dempster  would 
then  direct  what  move  to  make  in  response  by 
giving  the  number  from  which  and  to  which  he 
wished  his  man  moved.  When  done  the  moving 
was  repeated  on  each  of  the  other  four  boards  in 
their  order  and  in  the  same  manner,  so  that 
there  were  five  games  going  simultaneously.  No 
two  games  were  alike,  and  after  a  few  moves 
had  been  made,  any  one  who  knows  anything 
about  the  game  can  readily  see  that  matters  got 
intricate  and  involved  in  all  sorts  of  schemes 
and  plans,  each  player  trying  to  entrap  Mr. 
Dempster  and  he  each  of  them.  All  the  local 
players  being  good  ones  and  some  of  them  ex 
ceedingly  apt  at  the  game,  the  playing  soon  be 
came  interesting  and  exceedingly  hot,  so  to  speak, 
and  so  continued  till  the  collapse  came. 


Checker  Playing  13 


The  games  lasted  for  three  hours  and  Mr. 
Dempster  had  no  aid  whatever  as  to  the  position 
of  the  men  on  any  of  the  boards  but  his  memory. 
Very  often  he  would  direct  his  move  immedi 
ately,  but  at  other  times  it  would  take  him  sev 
eral  minutes  to  do  so.  He  had,  of  course,  not 
only  to  keep  the  position  of  his  own  men,  and  all 
of  them,  on  all  the  boards,  but  those  of  his  op 
ponents  in  his  memory,  and  then  to  hold  the 
board  before  his  mind  while  he  studied  out  the 
move  to  make.  When  playing  on  one  board  he 
must  necessarily  drop  out  of  his  mind  the  other 
four,  and  then  when  it  came  his  turn  to  move 
on  another,  bring  that  board  up  for  study.  To 
all  who  witnessed  the  playing  it  seemed  not  only 
astonishing,  but  amazing,  and  one  gentleman  so 
much  doubted  his  own  senses  that  he  went  and 
made  a  careful  and  thorough  inspection  and  ex 
amination  of  Mr.  Dempster  for  some  hidden 
spring,  mirror,  trap  or  other  device  by  which  he 
felt  he  must  be  getting  some  help.  I  noticed 
one  thing  which  gave  me  some  annoyance,  and 
that  was  that  while  playing  he  chewed  tobacco 
rather  too  freely  for  a  clear  and  full  action  of 
the  mind.  He  only  made  one  error  in  directing 
a  move  to  be  made  and  in  this  he  claimed  he 
had  got  board  four  confounded  with  board  three, 
but  no  one  helped  him  and  he  soon  cleared  the 
matter  up. 

Mr.  Dempster  beat  in  four  of  the  games,  in 
the  other  with  Mr.  Henry  C.  Batchelder  he  made 


14  Letters-Essays 


it  a  draw.  On  the  following  evening  he  played 
again,  beating  all  five  of  his  competitors.  As  an 
exhibition  of  memory  I  think  it  the  most  re 
markable  performance  I  have  ever  seen,  and  so 
did  all  who  were  present.  In  other  ways  and 
things,  especially  in  executive  ability,  I  hardly 
think  Mr.  Dempster  is  equal  to  the  average  citi 
zen.  I  hear  that  one  of  our  leading  citizens 
(not  a  spiritualist)  stated  to  him  that  if  he  had 
claimed  it  was  not  he  who  played  but  the  spirit 
of  one  who  had  gone,  who,  while  on  earth,  was 
passionately  fond  of  the  game,  and  that  he  simply 
moved  as  such  spirit  directed,  that  he  would  have 
been  more  puzzled,  and  that  it  would  have  added 
one  more  to  the  many  mysterious  things  that 
happen  for  which  there  seems  to  be  no  other  or, 
at  least,  so  easy  solution  or  explanation. 


Spirits 


H  "Sitting"  Mitb  tbe  Celebrates 
2>r.  Ibenn?  Slafce 


D 


E.  HENEY  SLADE,  the  world  famous 
spiritual  medium,  arrived  in  this  village 
from  Malone  on  Monday,  Nov.  5th,  1883, 
and  took  rooms  at  the  Albion  House.  He 
is  probably  the  most  successful  and  famous  me 
dium  who  has  yet  appeared.  He  has  traveled 
extensively,  not  only  in  this  country,  but  in  Eu 
rope,  Asia,  etc.  All  grades  of  men  and  women, 
from  crowned  heads  to  peasants,  have  taken  seats 
at  his  table  and  been  greatly  amazed  and  bewil 
dered  by  his  manifestations  of  spiritual  phe 
nomena. 

In  Germany  he  had  the  attention  of  several  of 
the  cold,  calculating,  unbelieving  professors  for 
which  that  country  is  famous,  and  he  so  bewil 
dered  them  that  one  of  them  wrote  a  new  work  on 
physics. 

Not  long  ago  the  New  York  Tribune  contained 
a  column  report  of  a  "  sitting  "  with  Dr.  Slade 


16  Letters-Essays 


by  one  of  its  reporters.  According  to  that  report 
the  phenomena  produced  was  marvelous,  I  might 
almost  say  miraculous. 

Having  read  so  much  of  him  I  was  anxious  to 
take  a  "  sitting  "  and  witness  the  phenomena 
with  my  own  eyes.  Accordingly  another  gentle 
man  and  myself  called  on  him  soon  after  his  ar 
rival.  He  received  us  pleasantly,  but  could  not 
give  us  a  sitting  then,  but  would  in  the  evening. 
My  companion  did  not  seem  to  be  impressed  with 
the  doctor  and  declined  to  accompany  me  again. 
That  evening  Mr.  W.  H.  Brooks  and  myself 
called  on  the  doctor  and  took  a  "  sitting."  Dr. 
Slade  claims  to  be  a  medium — a  person  peculiarly 
organized — charged  with  magnetism  or  some 
other  subtle  influence  or  agent,  and  so  organized 
and  gifted  by  the  Almighty,  for  the  express  pur 
pose  of  mediumship,  that  the  spirits  of  the  de 
parted  may  through  him,  and  such  as  he,  com 
municate  with  the  living.  If  that  be  true,  he  has 
certainly  a  high  calling,  and  it  should  be  known 
by  all.  If  it  be  not  true,  then,  certainly,  he  should 
be  exposed,  and  not  be  allowed  to  prey  upon  the 
credulity  of  men.  I  am  not  against  spiritualism, 
although  I  do  not  believe  in  spirit  manifesta 
tions,  so-called.  However,  I  would  treat  this,  as 
every  other  question,  fairly  and  investigate  it 
thoroughly.  With  this,  surely,  no  one  can  com 
plain.  In  giving  this  report  of  our  "  sitting,"  I 
shall  endeavor  to  avoid  all  feeling  or  prejudice, 
simply  stating  what  took  place. 


A  "  Sitting  "  With  Dr.  Slade  17 

We  told  the  doctor  that  we  were  skeptics,  and 
he  replied  that  those  were  the  men  he  desired  to 
meet.  He  had  a  bare,  plain  board  table,  with 
leaves.  On  this  sat  the  lamp.  Just  behind  him 
was  a  stand  on  which  were  several  articles.  He 
said  that  he  could  promise  nothing,  that  he  could 
not  control  the  manifestations,  that  the  conditions 
must  be  favorable  or  nothing  could  be  done,  that 
he  could  not  tell  as  to  conditions  until  he  had 
tried  for  phenomena. 

He  arose  and  took  from  the  stand  two  small 
slates  with  wood  frames  and  handed  them  to  us. 
We  examined  and  found  them  clean.  He  took 
them  and  turned  and  stepped  to  the  stand,  the 
while  speaking  to  us  of  the  pencil  he  used,  and 
instantly  returned  to  us  with  two  slates  and 
several  bits  of  pencil.  Immediately,  he  said,  we 
will  begin,  and  directed  Mr.  B.  to  place  his  right 
hand  near  my  left,  well  towards  the  center  of  the 
table,  so  he  could  place  his  left  hand  on  each, 
and  for  us  to  join  our  other  hands.  This  brought 
Mr.  B.  and  myself  close  up  to  the  table.  The 
doctor  sat  nearly  sidewise,  at  the  end  of  the 
table.  A  chair  sat  opposite  me,  well  up  to  the 
table,  and  turned  facing  the  doctor.  The  doctor 
placed  a  bit  of  pencil  about  three-fourths  of  an 
inch  in  length  on  one  slate  and  then  the  other  slate 
over  and  upon  this.  He  took  them  at  the  end  in 
his  right  hand,  having  the  fingers  extended  under 
the  slates,  and  his  thumb  on  top,  and  carried 
them  below  the  table  and  under  the  corner  of 


18  Letters-Essays 


the  leaf,  moving  them  toward  himself  and  then 
out  into  view,  keeping  them,  or  at  least  his  arm, 
on  the  move  all  the  time.  He  placed  his  left 
hand  on  ours  and  instantly  removed  it,  acting  as 
if  he  were  frightened,  saying  one  of  us  was  highly 
charged.  After  two  or  three  trials,  he  got  so 
he  could  keep  his  hand  on  ours.  Mr.  B.  then 
asked  to  see  the  inside  of  the  slates  and  he 
brought  them  up  and  opened  them.  They  were 
clean  and  the  bit  of  pencil  was  there.  He  took 
them  back  below  the  table  and  at  once  we  heard 
rapping.  The  doctor  asked  if  he  could  place 
the  slates  on  my  shoulder.  I  said  certainly.  He 
did  so,  keeping  his  hand  under  them  as  before. 
At  once  we  heard  a  noise  very  similar  to  slate 
pencil  writing.  We  joked  and  laughed,  the  doc 
tor  joining  in,  but  the  "  writing  "  kept  on.  He  re 
marked  how  similar  the  noise  was  to  pencil 
writing.  I  said  yes;  but  how  do  we  know  but 
that  one  of  your  fingers  under  the  slate  is  doing 
itf  He  replied  that  he  couldn't  make  such  a 
noise  with  his  finger  nail.  Presently  there  was 
rapping  and  he  placed  the  slates  on  the  table  and 
opened  them.  The  lower  slate  had  a  full  page 
of  good  writing  in  straight  lines,  light  hand,  cor 
rectly  punctuated  and  signed  J.  Lawrence.  He 
asked  if  we  were  acquainted  with  him.  We  said 
we  were  not,  never  knew  any  such  person.  He 
seemed  greatly  surprised  and  soon  after  asked 
us  again.  I  asked  him  if  he  did  not  know  him, 
and  he  said  he  did  not.  I  have  since  been  told 


A  "  Sitting  "  With  Dr.  Slade  19 

that  he  was  a  spiritualist  and  died  in  this  town 
a  few  years  ago.  He  then  placed  a  bit  of  pencil 
on  a  pencil  mark,  on  the  slate,  and  also  placed 
an  ordinary  slate  pencil  on  the  slate  next  the 
frame  and  carried  the  slate  below  the  table  as 
before.  Very  soon  the  pencil  came  in  a  curve  on 
the  table,  and  the  bit  of  pencil  remained  on  the 
pencil  mark. 

Then  he  placed  a  bit  of  pencil  on  the  slate  and 
carried  it  below  the  table,  moving  it  to  and  fro, 
and  orally  asked  if  the  gentleman  at  his  right 
was  a  medium.  He  remarked  that  chairs  were 
sometimes  thrown  about,  and  very  soon  the  va 
cant  chair  fell  over  rather  violently.  We  waited 
some  two  minutes  for  a  reply,  and  during  this 
time  he  was  talking  to  us  upon  topics  foreign  to 
the  occasion,  as  I  then  surmised,  and  now  be 
lieve,  to  get  our  attention.  As  I  said,  I  had  to 
look  over  my  shoulder  to  watch  him  and  then 
could  not  see  the  slate  except  when  it  came  by 
the  edge  of  the  leaf.  I  noticed,  however,  that  his 
arm  had  quite  a  swing,  bringing  the  slate  well 
over  his  knees.  Mr.  B.  could  not  see  anything 
except  the  movement  of  his  arm  above  the  elbow. 
Finally,  we  heard  writing  and  he  soon  placed 
the  slate  on  the  table.  The  words  "  He  is  "  were 
there,  but  in  a  poor,  scrawly  hand.  Then  he  re 
peated  this,  asking  if  Mr.  B.  was  a  medium,  and 
after  taking  about  the  same  time  he  got  the  re 
ply  "  He  is  not,"  in  a  similar  scrawly  hand. 

He  then  asked  me  to  write  a  question  on   the 


20  Letters-Essays 


slate.  I  did  so.  This  was  turned  down  and  a 
bit  of  pencil  placed  on  the  top  of  the  slate  and 
the  slate  carried  below  the  table  as  before.  The 
question  was  in  two  parts  and  occupied  nearly 
two  lines.  The  name  of  the  person  I  addressed 
was  plain  and  distinct;  the  balance  of  the  ques 
tion  was  rather  indistinct,  owing  to  the  oily  con 
dition  of  the  slate.  I  noticed  he  soon  gave  his 
arm  a  rather  long  swing,  occasionally  bringing 
the  slate  nearly  or  quite  over  his  lap.  Very  soon 
he  asked,  *  *  You  did  not  write  but  one  question  ?  ' ' 
I  replied  that  I  did  not.  He  went  on  with  the 
movement  and  soon  said,  "  You  are  sure  you  did 
not  write  but  one  question?  "  I  said  I  was.  Soon 
after  he  brought  up  the  slate  and  at  the  same 
moment  said  the  person  I  addressed  (giving  his 
name)  was  not  present  and  took  a  wet  sponge 
and  began  wiping  out  the  writing  or  scrawls  that 
were  on  the  slate.  As  soon  as  I  saw  what  he  was 
doing  I  reached  for  the  slate,  but  it  was  too  late. 
I  asked  why  he  did  not  let  us  see  it.  He  said  he 
was  sorry,  that  he  didn't  think,  etc.  I  got  a 
glance  of  what  was  on  the  slate  and,  if  it  was 
writing,  it  was  miserably  poor.  There  certainly 
was  not  half  as  much  on  the  slate  as  he  orally 
stated;  of  this  I  am  sure.  What  puzzles  me  is: 
Where  he  got  the  whole  of  the  reply  he  gave  to 
us.  Not  from  the  slate,  for  it  was  not  there. 
Time  and  again  he  told  us  he  was  as  ignorant 
as  we  of  the  communications  until  he  read  them 
on  the  slate. 


A  "  Sitting  "  With  Dr.  Slade  21 

I  tlien  asked  if  I  could  not  put  my  head  under 
the  table  and  watch.  He  replied,  "  Certainly,  I 
have  no  objection.  I  court  the  closest  scrutiny." 
Accordingly  I  moved  back,  bringing  my  hands 
nearly  to  the  edge  of  the  table  so  I  could  put 
my  head  under.  The  doctor  said,  "  No,  that 
won't  do.  You  must  put  your  hand  over  there," 
(near  to  center  of  table).  I  did  so,  but  got  my 
head  under  the  leaf  and  asked  him  to  proceed. 
He  commenced  moving  the  slate  as  before,  and 
immediately  we  heard  rapping.  We  had  heard 
this  rapping  at  the  beginning  of  every  trial,  and 
I  thought  we  were  going  to  have  another  com 
munication.  But  the  doctor  knew  the  rap,  it 
seems,  for  he  put  up  the  slate  and  said  that  was 
the  signal  for  the  flight  of  the  spirits;  that  they 
were  gone;  that  he  could  not  control  them;  that 
we  could  not  do  anything  more  that  evening. 

Mr.  B.  says  that  he  will  take  his  oath  that  there 
was  a  third  slate  on  the  stand.  From  my  position 
I  could  not  see  as  well  as  he.  At  any  rate,  I 
can't  see  why  he  did  not  bring  the  bits  of  pencil 
in  the  first  instance  with  the  slates,  why  it  was 
necessary  to  take  the  slates  back  to  the  stand 
with  him,  to  get  the  pencils. 

The  other  communications  were  only  a  word  or 
two,  and  a  clever  juggler  could  easily  have  put 
the  slate  between  his  knees  or  in  his  lap,  kept 
his  arm  swinging  to  deceive  us,  written  the  word 
or  two,  picked  up  the  slate,  swung  it  again  and 
brought  it  forth. 


22  Letters-Essays 


But  what  satisfied  us  that  he  does  it  himself 
more  than  anything  else  that  took  place  was  the 
trouble  he  had  over  the  question  I  asked.  The 
form  in  which  I  wrote  it  made  it  look,  at  a  casual 
glance,  as  if  there  were  two  questions.  As  he  does 
not  get  any  aid  from  the  spirit,  is  it  not  fair  to 
assume  that  he  got  his  eye  on  the  writing?  What 
was  it  to  him  whether  I  asked  one  or  more  ques 
tions?  He  had  nothing  to  do  about  it,  as  he 
stated  time  and  again.  The  spirits  were  the  ones 
to  complain.  If  a  spirit  can  answer  one  question 
why  can't  it  answer  two?  If  a  spirit  can't  answer 
two  it  can't  do  as  well  as  when  in  the  flesh.  But 
as  I  believe,  his  only  point  in  asking  about  the 
two  questions  was  -to  break  the  long  suspense 
and  get  time  to  read  the  question.  The  name  was 
plain  and  he  got  that.  The  rest  of  the  question 
was  rather  indistinct  and  he  couldn't  decipher  it. 
So  he  tells  us  the  person  addressed  is  not  pres 
ent.  Surely  that  is  vague  and  general  enough. 
Whether  that  or  any  part  of  it  was  on  the  slate, 
no  one  except  he  and  the  spirit  that  wrote  it  will 
ever  know. 

Again  his  warning  us  that  chairs  were  some 
times  thrown  over  and  the  chair  being  almost 
immediately  upturned,  fairly  shows  that  he 
knew  that  the  spirit  which  throws  chairs  was 
present,  while  he  repeatedly  asserted  that  he 
knew  not  the  purpose  or  even  presence  of  a 
spirit  until  the  phenomena  appeared.  Whether 
he  or  the  spirit  turned  it,  I  do  not  know, 


A  "  Sitting  »  With  Dr.  Slade  23 

but  certainly  lie  could  easily  have  done  it  with 
his  foot. 

Then,  also,  the  hasty  flight  of  the  spirits  after 
putting  my  head  under  the  table,  which  he  as 
sented  to  and  encouraged,  seems,  at  least  to  a 
skeptic,  as  a  little  strange.  Surely  the  spirits 
were  not  frightened,  and  if  there  were  present 
spirits  from  the  unseen  world,  would  they  not 
eagerly  embrace  every  opportunity  to  remove  all 
doubt? 

Other  persons  (spiritualists)  who  had  "  sit 
tings  "  with  the  doctor  tell  us  of  most  wonderful 
phenomena  taking  place,  such  as  a  chair  rising 
some  two  feet  with  a  person  upon  it,  the  doctor 
simply  touching  the  chair;  getting  long  communi 
cations,  they  having  hold  of  the  slate  all  the  time, 
and  in  the  original  handwriting  of  the  departed. 
I  should  have  been  pleased  to  see  something  of 
this  kind,  and  expected  to  from  such  a  medium 
as  Dr.  Slade.  In  all  that  I  have  seen  or  read,  I 
have  never  known  of  such  phenomena  taking 
place  in  the  presence  of  a  skeptic. 

I  asked  the  doctor  if  the  writing  between  the 
slates  was  done  with  the  bit  of  pencil  placed  be 
tween  them.  He  said  it  was.  I  then  said  that 
the  communication  from  J.  Lawrence  was  in  a 
fine  hand.  To  write  thus  finely  the  pencil  must 
have  been  nearly  on  end.  The  pencil  was  %  of 
an  inch  in  length.  The  slates  were  only  about  M> 
of  an  inch  apart.  How  could  the  pencil  stand  up 
to  write  thus  finely,  and,  especially,  how  could  it 


24  Letters-Essays 


stand  up  at  all,  without  also  writing  upon  the 
upper  slate.  He  said  he  could  not  tell;  that  it 
was  one  of  the  many  mysteries. 


NOTE — This  was  not  written,  nor  is  it  included  here,  as 
an  attack  on  spiritualism.  I  have  no  knowledge  that  what 
they  teach  is  not  true.  Their  main  claim,  as  I  understand, 
is  that  the  spirits  of  the  departed  remain  on  this  planet  or 
come  hack  to  it  on  occasion.  Why  may  they  not  remain 
or  come  back  here,  since  as  the  whole  Christian  world 
teaches  that  they  can  and  do  go  to  a  far  distant  celestial 
sphere  or  abode? 


COL.   JONAH    SANFORD 


(Hn  Hfcfcrese*) 

|E.    PEESIDENT— Members    of    the    Col. 
Jonah  Sanford  Grand  Army  Post: 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  be  with 
you  on  this  occasion.  Aside  from  the 
gratification  of  meeting  many  whom  I  know,  the 
presentation  just  made  to  you  of  this  elegant 
flag  is  doubly  pleasing  to  me.  If  it  were  not,  I 
should  confess  myself  wanting  in  all  the  finer 
sensibilities  which  animate  our  natures. 

Any  exhibition  of  gratitude  is  ever  a  welcome 
and  a  pleasing  sight.  In  fact,  gratitude  is  one 
of  the  finest  and  noblest  attributes  of  our  na 
tures  and  he  who  is  without  it  is  a  poor  creature 
indeed.  I  would  as  soon  that  reason  should  for 
sake  me,  as  to  be  bereft  of  gratitude. 

The  flag  which  has  just  been  presented  to  you 
is  the  generous  gift  of  ladies  whose  hearts  are 
warmed  by  the  blood  of  him  whose  memory  you 

*Delivered  at  Nicholville,  N.  Y.,  July  4,  1884. 


26  Letters-Essays 


have  honored.  It  is  their  testimonial  of  grati 
tude  for  your  very  generous  and  kindly  act.  With 
it,  also,  towards  you,  goes  woman's  gentleness 
and  love — certainly  a  no  more  fitting  tribute  of 
regard  could  be  made  to  a  soldier  of  the  repub 
lic.  If  there  be  anything  which  is  dear  to  him, 
it  is  the  flag,  under  which,  and  for  which,  he 
fought. 

For  its  supremacy  he  bore,  without  murmur,  all 
the  trials  and  hardships  of  war,  and  even  offered 
his  life  as  a  sacrifice.  It  is  the  flag,  too,  which 
our  fathers  unfurled  as  the  ensign  of  a  free  peo 
ple. 

By  your  valor  and  that  of  your  comrades  in 
blue,  and  by  the  grace  of  God,  it  still  remains 
the  emblem  of  a  free  republic,  the  only  purely 
free  republic  on  the  earth.  And  now,  gentlemen, 
as  a  grandson  of  Col.  Jonah  Sanf  ord,  whose  mem 
ory  you  have  honored,  and  in  behalf  of  his  nu 
merous  descendants,  some  of  whom  are  members 
of  your  post,  I  should  be  pleased  to  have  you 
bear  with  me  for  a  few  moments. 

Those  who  bear  his  blood  feel  a  just  pride  in 
his  achievements,  and  the  position  which  he  won 
among  his  fellows.  It  is  but  natural  that  they 
should.  No  lapse  of  time  can  erase  the  ties  of 
kinship.  Respect  for  the  memory  of  those  who 
have  gone  is  the  greatest  tribute  which  we  can 
pay  to  those  we  once  loved. 

Soon  each  of  us  in  turn  will  enter  that  eternal 
sleep  which  "  kisses  down  the  eyelids  still,"  and 


Flag  Presentation  27 

to  know  that  we  shall  be  remembered  by  at  least 
those  who  best  knew  and  loved  us,  greatly  soft 
ens  the  sting  of  death. 

Col.  Jonah  Sanford  died  on  Christmas  day, 
1867 — nearly  seventeen  years  ago.  It  is  aston 
ishing  how  fast  the  years  roll  by.  It  seems  but 
yesterday  that  I  last  saw  him,  hale  and  well,  as 
fine  a  specimen  of  elderly  manhood  as  one  sel 
dom  sees  in  a  life  time.  Large  of  stature  and  com 
manding  in  bearing,  with  a  face,  though  stern  of 
purpose,  yet  radiant  with  kindness  and  beaming 
with  intelligence  and  character.  His  courage 
was  dauntless,  and  his  will  power  indomitable. 
'  *  In  every  -storm  'of  life  he  was  oak  and  rock,  but 
in  the  sunshine  he  was  vine  and  flower."  To 
those  who  met  him  as  capable  opponents,  he  was 
sometimes  austere  and  unrelenting,  so  strong 
were  his  convictions;  but  with  the  controversy  at 
an  end,  all  feeling  would  pass  away.  He  was  too 
generous  and  too  great  to  harbor  enmity  or  ill 
will. 

For  all  aspiring  young  men  he  had  the  greatest 
respect  and  kindness;  and  I  only  regret  that  I 
cannot  pay  his  memory  a  more  fitting  tribute.  I 
loved  him,  living,  for  his  sterling  worth  and 
character,  and  now  I  revere  his  memory. 

Since  you  have  honored  him  with  the  name  of 
your  post,  and  since  it  is  nearly  a  fifth  of  a  cen 
tury  since  he  passed  away,  I  have  thought  that 
a  brief  sketch  of  his  life  would  not  be  uninterest 
ing. 


28  Letters-Essays 


He  was  born  in  Cornwall,  Vt.,  in  the  year  1790 
and  came  into  this  county  in  the  year  1811.  He 
selected  a  piece  of  woodland  in  the  town  of  Hop- 
kinton,  where  he  continued  to  reside  until  his 
death.  There  were  then  but  a  few  settlers  in  all 
this  section  'of  the  country,  and  those  quite  dis 
tant  and  widely  separated.  He  cleared  a  small 
spot  and  built  him  a  log  cabin  that  year,  when  he 
returned  to  Cornwall.  He  returned  in  1812  and 
also  in  1813  and  1814  to  enlarge  the  clearing  he 
had  begun,  but  did  not  permanently  settle  there 
till  1815. 

In  the  summer  of  1814  he  went  back  to  Ver 
mont,  >as  that  section  of  the  country  was  then 
threatened  by  the  British.  He  enlisted  into  a 
Vermont  regiment,  and  took  part  in  the  battle 
of  Plattsburgh,  Sept.  llth,  1814.  For  gallantry  in 
that  engagement  he  was  made  a  corporal.  On 
the  termination  of  the  war  he  returned  to  his 
cabin  in  Hopkinton  and  devoted  himself  assidu 
ously  to  the  clearing  of  the  forest  and  the  mak 
ing  of  a  home.  Having  but  little  education,  be 
ing  barely  able  to  read  and  figure,  and  recogniz 
ing  his  own  sad  condition,  and  that  of  those 
about  him,  in  this  respect,  he  purchased  a  few 
law  books  and  began  their  study  with  a  heroic 
determination.  Blessed  with  great  natural  abili 
ties,  an  indomitable  will,  and  a  power  of  per 
severance  that  knew  no  bounds,  he  soon  mastered 
the  fundamental  principles  of  the  law  and  began 
its  practice.  For  some  years  thereafter  he  de- 


Flag  Presentation  29 

voted  himself  almost  entirely  to  the  practice  of 
the  law,  and  became  one  of  the  ablest  and  most 
successful  practitioners  in  the  county. 

In  1828  he  was  elected  one  of  the  two  mem 
bers  of  the  legislature  from  this  county,  and  was 
also  re-elected  in  1829.  March  9, 1830,  he  was 
elected  to  Congress  to  fill  out  the  unexpired  term 
of  Silas  Wright.  In  1846  he  held  the  honorable 
position  of  one  of  the  three  commissioners  from 
this  county  to  revise  the  constitution  of  the  State. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  old  state  militia,  in 
which  he  rose  by  successive  promotions,  by  rea 
son  of  efficient  services  and  eminent  qualification 
as  a  military  officer,  to  the  rank  of  Brigadier 
General. 

In  politics  he  was  a  Democrat  until  the  organi 
zation  of  the  Republican  party  in  1854-5.  On 
its  organization  he  became  one  of  the  most  ar 
dent  and  zealous  advocates  of  its  doctrines  and 
principles,  and  remained  such  until  his  death. 

When  the  great  rebellion  of  1861  burst  upon 
us,  threatening  the  destruction  of  our  free  re 
public,  I  well  remember  with  what  ardor  and  zeal 
he  threw  all  the  energies  of  his  nature  into  the 
cause  of  the  Union.  If  there  was  nothing  else 
in  his  career  to  which  I  could  point  with  pride, 
this  alone  would  be  sufficient  to  make  me  proud 
of  his  memory.  Those  were  dark  days  indeed, 
and  he  who  was  brave  and  loyal  then  was  a  pat 
riot  to  the  cause  of  constitutional  liberty.  Neg 
lecting  his  own  personal  affairs  he  gave  substan- 


30  Letters-Essays 


tially  all  his  time  from  1861  to  1865  to  the  sup 
port  of  the  war  and  the  union.  He  was  intensely 
loyal.  He  believed1  that  it  was  every  man's 
bounden  duty,  who  was  physically  capable,  to  go 
into  the  war.  To  his  sons  and  grandsons  he  said, 
as  the  Spartan  fathers  of  old,  "  go,  it  is  your 
duty."  For  those  who  hesitated  or  opposed  the 
war  he  had  no  mercy  or  pity. 

In  the  fall  of  1861,  when  it  had  become  evi 
dent  that  a  great  war  was  upon  us,  he  obtained 
permission  of  the  state  government  to  raise  a 
regiment  of  men.  Although  seventy  years  of  age 
he  entered  into  this  great  undertaking  almost 
alone  and  unaided,  working  night  and  day,  driv 
ing  about  the  country — attending  and  addressing 
war  meetings — infusing  into  all  a  spirit  of  loy 
alty  and  of  concern  for  our  country.  He  labored 
with  such  zeal  and  energy  that  in  February, 
1862,  he  started  for  the  seat  of  war  with  the  old 
92nd  Regiment,  of  a  full  thousand  men.  He 
went  with  them  to  the  seat  of  war  on  the  James 
Eiver,  but,  owing  to  his  advanced  age  and  his 
arduous  labors  in  organizing  the  regiment,  he  was 
unable  to  remain  long  in  active  service. 

He  resigned  his  commission  into  younger  hands 
and  came  home,  but  his  interest  in  the  success 
of  the  war  did  not  abate  one  jot  or  tittle.  Until 
its  close  in  1865  he  was  actively  interested  in 
every  project  and  movement  for  the  Union.  He 
lived  to  see  the  war  a  success,  the  rebellion  put 
down  and  the  government  of  our  fathers  re-estab- 


Flag  Presentation  31 

lished,  on,  I  trust,  a  more  enduring  basis.  And 
now,  gentlemen,  I  have  an  agreeable  task  to  per 
form. 

Mr.  Jonah  Sanford,  out  of  gratefulness  to  you 
for  the  compliment  you  have  paid  his  father's 
memory,  requests  me  to  present  to  you  this  ele 
gant  crayon  portrait  of  Ool.  Jonah  Sanford. 

And  now,  gentlemen,  one  word  more  of  a  per 
sonal  character  to  you.  It  is  now  twenty-three 
years  since  that  dark  cloud  of  disunion  and  war 
burst  over  this  land.  For  four  years  thereafter 
that  war  waged  more  fiercely  than  any  of  the 
wars  of  modern  history.  At  times  it  became  a 
wild  carnage  of  slaughter  and  blood,  and  the 
wisest  among  us  were  fearful  of  the  result.  When 
defeat  fell  upon  the  boys  in  blue,  there  was  sad 
ness  in  every  loyal  face.  Then,  when  victory 
would  reward  your  bravery,  every  loyal  heart 
beat  nobly  and  every  loyal  face  became  radiant 
with  hope.  Thus,  for  four  long  years,  the  destiny 
of  the  republic  hung  alternately  in  hope  and 
gloom. 

No  army  of  men,  in  any  age  of  the  world's  his 
tory,  was  ever  engaged  in  a  nobler  cause,  or  ever 
fought  more  valiantly  and  bravely  than  did  the 
boys  in  blue.  Four  hundred  thousand  of  them 
gave  their  lives  "  that  this  nation  under  God 
might  have  a  new  birth  of  freedom,  and  that  gov 
ernment  of  the  people,  for  the  people,  and  by  the 
people,  should  not  perish  from  the  earth."  It 
was  a  terrible  sacrifice  of  treasure  and  blood, 


32  Letters-Essays 


with  an  attendant  sea  of  suffering  and  sorrow; 
but,  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  results,  who 
can  say  that  it  was  too  great?  Had  our  republic 
gone  down  in  that  struggle,  kings  and  monarchs 
would  have  received  a  new  lease  of  life,  and  the 
doctrines  of  liberty,  equality  of  men,  and  sov 
ereignty  of  the  individual,  which  are  so  dear  to 
us,  would,  in  all  probability,  have  ceased  to  ex 
ist,  at  least  as  factors  in  our  national  life.  Such 
a  calamity,  not  to  us  alone,  but  to  the  human 
race,  your  bravery  averted.  Every  soldier  dead, 
and  every  soldier  living,  may  proudly  boast  that 
the  perpetuation  of  these  principles  as  a  force 
in  the  affairs  of  men,  is  his  legacy  to  mankind. 

Nineteen  years  have  since  passed  away.  Dur 
ing  that  time  many  of  the  boys  in  blue  have 
joined  their  comrades  who  fell  in  the  struggle 
in  that  "  eternal  sleep  which  knows  no  waking." 
One  by  one  they  are  falling  by  the  wayside,  and 
in  a  few  short  years  all  will  have  passed  away. 
It  is  well  that  you  organize  these  army  posts. 
Band  yourselves  together  as  a  band  of  brothers. 
The  ties  which  should  bind  you  one  to  another 
are  hardly  less  strong  than  the  ties  of  blood.  You 
were  brothers  in  a  great  contest,  when  to  be  a 
brother  meant  to  be  a  hero  or  a  martyr.  Then 
you  stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  defense  of  the 
best  government  yet  instituted  among  men.  And 
now,  as  the  evening  of  life  is  coming  on,  it  is 
well  that  you  stand  together  as  you  stood  then. 
See  to  it  that  every  comrade  is  secure  in  all  his 


Flag  Presentation  33 

rights.  See  to  it  that  every  comrade  receives 
all  the  blessings  which  the  government  bestows. 
See  to  it  that  no  injustice  or  wrong  is  done  to  any 
man  who  wore  the  blue.  See  to  it  that  every 
comrade  who  is  entitled  to  it  has  his  pension. 
See  to  it  that  no  comrade  suffers  from  penury  or 
want.  See  to  it  that  every  comrade's  widow  and 
his  orphan  children  have  and  receive  all  the 
rights  and  dues  to  which  they  are  entitled.  See 
to  it  that  every  comrade,  when  he  is  called  hence, 
is  properly  laid  away  to  his  eternal  rest. 

Your  fame  is  secure.  A  generous  people  and 
a  generous  government  will  ever  hold  your 
services  in  grateful  remembrance. 


Ibon.  Jonab  Sanforfc 


H 


E  was  a  son  of  the  late  Col.  Jonah  San- 
ford  of  Hopkinton,  where  he  was  born 
Oct.  24,  1821,  and  consequently  was 
wanting  a  few  days  of  being  sixty-five 
years  of  age,  dying  Oct.  18,  1886,  on  his  farm  in 
Hopkinton.  His  schooling  was  principally  ob 
tained  at  the  old  St.  Lawrence  Academy  in  Pots 
dam.  On  arriving  at  his  majority  he  spent  the 
first  four  years  following  as  superintendent  of 
his  father's  farm. 

He  then  moved  onto  a  small  farm  about  three 
miles  east  of  Parishville,  where  he  labored  with 
such  perseverance  that  he  was  soon  able  to  pur 
chase  a  large  property,  upon  which  he  has  since 
resided,  and  to  which  he  has  added  extensively. 
In  February,  1847,  he  married  Clarinda  Risdon, 
daughter  of  Elisha  Risdon,  to  whom  four  children 
have  been  born,  viz.:  Carlton  E.  of  Potsdam;  Silas 
H.,  residing  at  home;  Mrs.  L.  C.  Shepard  of 
Somerville,  Mass.,  and  Herbert  J.  of  Potsdam. 

In  politics  he  was  a  Democrat  up  to  the  'or 
ganization  of  the  Republican  party,  to  which  he 
early  united  and  to  which  he  has  steadfastly  ad 
hered. 


HON.   JONAH  SAXFOTID,   JR. 


Hon.  Jonah  Sanford  35 

In  1862  he  was  appointed  Assistant  Assessor  of 
Internal  Bevenue,  which  position  he  held  till  the 
consolidation  of  the  system  in  1872.  In  August, 
1862,  he  was  appointed  enrolling  officer  of  his 
town.  He  was  first  elected  Supervisor  of  his 
town  in  1868  and  was  annually  thereafter  re- 
elected  to  the  same  position  down  to  and  includ 
ing  the  year  1885,  excepting  two  years  that  he 
was  in  the  Legislature.  He  was  elected  Chair 
man  of  the  Board  of  Supervisors  for  the  years 
1878,  1879  and  1885,  and  made  a  most  excellent 
presiding  officer.  He  was  quick  to  act,  judicious 
and  impartial  in  his  rulings.  As  a  testimonial  of 
this,  the  Board  presented  him  with  a  handsome 
ebony  cane,  gold  mounted,  which  he  highly 
prized,  at  the  close  of  the  session  in  1879.  He 
served  in  all  sixteen  years  on  the  Board,  and  I 
think  it  safe  to  say  that  he  was  the  best  informed 
man  during  his  last  years  as  to  the  business  and 
affairs  of  the  county  that  we  had  among  us.  He 
seemed  to  know  it  all,  though  much  of  it  is  quite 
involved  and  complicated.  He  was  on  nearly  all 
the  important  and  active  committees.  He  gave 
whatever  he  had  to  do  such  thoroughness  of  re 
search  and  study  that  his  reports  were  almost 
invariably  adopted  and  his  suggestions  fol 
lowed.  In  the  fall  of  1873  he  was  elected  to  the 
Legislature  and  was  re-elected  in  1874. 

As  a  legislator  he  was  careful,  judicious  and 
level  headed.  He  voted  right,  as  his  constituents 
would  have  voted,  on  all  measures  and  came  out 


36  Letters-Essays 


of  the  Legislature  unsullied.  Two  local  measures 
of  considerable  importance  came  before  the  Leg 
islature  while  he  was  there,  which  he  handled 
with  much  dexterity,  sagacity  and  good  judg 
ment. 

Mr.  Sanford  in  his  prime  was  a  man  of  splendid 
physical  ability.  He  had  muscles  of  steel  and 
great  powers  of  endurance.  He  stood  full  five 
feet  nine  in  height  and  weighed  two  hundred 
pounds.  Through  all  his  life  he  took  great  de 
light  in  feats  of  strength,  games  and  exercises  of 
all  kinds.  At  wrestling  and  other  sports  requir 
ing  agility  and  strength  he  met  but  few  men 
from  his  boyhood,  who  were  his  equals.  While 
a  student  in  the  old  Academy  he  was  one  of  the 
leaders  in  all  the  vigorous  games  and  sports  of 
those  days,  and  this  same  fondness  for  athletic 
exercises  was  his  to  his  death. 

He  liked  and  courted  society,  especially  that 
of  younger  men  and  women.  He  could  have  more 
fun  and  enjoyment  with  them,  as  a  rule,  than 
with  older  people.  The  young  people  about  him 
in  turn  enjoyed  his  society  and  were  at  his  home 
a  great  deal.  There  was  nothing  prosy  in  his 
nature,  nor  did  he  enjoy  Staid,  inert  people.  He 
wanted  matters  to  be  stirring  and  people  to  be 
alive  with  mirth  and  laughter. 

Mr.  Sanford  was  a  man  of  great  industry  and 
business  sagacity.  He  accumulated  quite  a  prop 
erty  and  it  is,  substantially,  all  the  work  of  his 
hands  and  brain.  In  matters  of  business,  his 


Hon.  Jonah  Stanford  37 

good  sense  and  judgment  almost  invariably 
guided  him  right.  He  made  but  few  missteps, 
and  those  were  due  to  being  over  sanguine.  Had 
he  dealt  in  stocks  he  would  have  been  a  bull.  He 
always  looked  on  the  bright  side  of  business  mat 
ters.  If  an  enterprise  turned  out  poorly,  he 
never  fretted  or  worried  over  it  in  the  least. 
Those  who  did  not  know,  could  not  discover  by 
his  speech  or  action  but  that  a  poor  enterprise 
had  been  a  splendid  success. 

For  years  he  has  been  doing  a  large  business 
as  a  speculator  in  every  kind  of  property  per 
taining  to  an  agricultural  section,  in  addition  to 
the  conduct  of  his  farms,  and  had  become  known 
to  every  person  about  him  for  quite  a  distance. 
People  were  continually  going  to  him  who  had 
anything  to  sell  or  who  needed  a  little  help.  He 
always  made  a  good  trade  if  he  could,  but  did  it 
manfully  and  honorably.  He  was  also  well  known 
and  highly  respected  in  this  village,  and  generally 
throughout  the  county.  He  was  strong  in  his 
attachments,  and  no  one  loved  his  home  or  his 
children  more  warmly  than  did  he. 

Some  five  years  ago  he  was  stricken  with  that 
terrible  disease  known  as  diabetes,  and  ever  since 
it  has  been  sapping  his  vital  forces.  At  times  he 
would  seem  to  rally  and  surmount  the  disease, 
and  then  after  a  little  would  gradually  fall  back 
again.  It  was  so  insidious  and  stealthy  in  its 
approach  upon  him  that  he  did  not  know  that 
he  was  afflicted  until  it  had  taken  a  firm  hold. 


38  Letters-Essays 


Four  weeks  previous  to  Ms  death  he,  wife  and 
daughter  started  for  Iowa  on  a  visiting  tour. 
The  journey  tired  him  very  much  and,  besides, 
he  found  the  weather  very  warm — 90  degrees  and 
over — which  was  greatly  debilitating  to  him.  His 
wife  and  daughter  urged  him  to  come  back  at 
once,  but  he  said  no,  he  would  be  better  when 
he  got  rested  and  that  they  would  make  a  hur 
ried  call  on  the  friends  they  had  gone  to  see.  He 
grew  weaker  and  very  soon  he  was  too  feeble  to 
return  when  the  weather  was  so  warm.  They 
waited  for  a  change  in  the  temperature  and  as 
soon  as  it  came  they  started,  reaching  home  Oc 
tober  16.  For  two  weeks  it  had  been  the  prayer 
of  his  life  to  get  home,  and  nothing  but  his  great 
will  power  ever  brought  him  through.  On  get 
ting  home  the  energy  and  tension  that  had  borne 
him  up,  of  course,  gave  way  and  there  was  a  re 
lapse.  About  midnight  of  that  day  he  fell 
into  a  stupor  or  comatose  state,  which  those  about 
him  for  some  time  supposed  was  slumber.  From 
this  he  never  rallied,  dying  as  one  would  sink  to 
sleep  at  2  p.  m.  on  Monday,  surrounded  by  his 
family. 


Was  Confcling  IFnvitefc? 


BIEND  FAY— Some  little  time  since,  I 
met  a  gentleman  well  advanced  in  politi 
cal  preferment,  who  gave  me,  as  he 
claimed,  "a  bit  of  inside  history  "  con 
cerning  onr  late  presidential  contest.  I  was 
amazed  at  the  time,  and  so  mnch  so  that  I  have 
not  since  related  it,  fearing  it  was  not  true— that 
he  had  been  misinformed.  Were  it  true,  I  knew  it 
would  some  day  ere  long  come  to  light,  and  I 
have  been  scanning  the  papers  since,  hoping  to 
learn  something  further  on  the  subject.  I  would 
not  speak  now  but  for  the  fact  that  I  noticed  an 
Albany  letter  in  the  Watertown  Times  of  the 
25th  ult.,  which  seems  to  bear  out  what  was  re 
lated  to  me.  If  there  be  any  truth  in  the  story  it 
should  come  to  light  and  the  people  should  know 
it,  so  that  the  blame  for  our  defeat  may  rest 
where  it  should.  If  it  be  not  true,  I  know  of  no 
way  of  ascertaining  that  fact  so  expeditiously  or 
well  as  to  make  the  story  public.  Now  that  it 
seems  to  be  gaining  currency,  and  as  we  are  on 
the  eve  of  a  great  State  contest,  if  it  be  not  true, 
that  fact  should  be  made  known.  I  understand, 
from  pretty  reliable  sources,  that  whatever  of 


40  Letters-Essays 


bitterness,  jealousy  or  feeling  among  our  leaders 
which  has  distracted  us  in  the  past  has  been 
buried  in  the  grave  of  our  defeat,  and  that  we 
are  to  pull  together  united.  If  that  be  true,  and 
I  earnestly  hope  that  it  is,  we  shall  be  invincible. 
Thus  viewing  the  situation  and  my  duty  in  the 
premises,  I  give  you  the  substance  of  the  story 
as  related  to  me. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  about  the  time  Mr. 
Elaine  went  into  Ohio,  it  looked  a  little  gloomy 
for  us.  There  did  not  seem  to  be  that  life,  spirit 
or  enthusiasm  in  the  canvass  which  augured  suc 
cess.  Certain  members  of  the  State  and  also  of 
National  Committee  were  apprehensive  of  the  re 
sult  unless  something  could  be  done  to  awaken 
the  people.  Some  members  of  both  committees 
were  very  anxious  that  Mr.  Conkling  be  officially 
invited  by  them  to  take  part  in  the  canvass, 
While  others  were  opposed  to  'any  such  course. 
The  former  (as  I  understood)  did  not  know  that 
he  would  take  part,  if  invited,  but  they  thought 
it  was  their  duty  to  make  the  effort.  Accordingly, 
several  members,  either  of  the  State  or  National 
Committee,  or  made  up  of  both,  informally  called 
on  Mr.  Conkling  to  ascertain  if  he  would  speak 
if  invited.  Making  known  their  mission,  Mr. 
Conkling  inquired  by  whose  authority  or  direc 
tion  they  came.  They  replied,  of  course,  on  their 
own.  In  the  conversation  that  ensued  Mr.  Conk 
ling  informed  them  that  if  Mr.  Elaine  would  per 
sonally  or  by  autograph  letter  request  him  to  take 


Was  Conkling  Invited?  41 

part  in  the  canvass  he  would  make  them  three 
speeches.  These  gentlemen  were  elated  and  went 
back  to  their  headquarters  and  a  telegram  was 
sent  to  Mr.  Blaine,  requesting  him  to  send  an  au 
tograph  letter  to  Mr.  Oonkling  accordingly.  I  did 
not  understand  this  to  be  by  any  official  action 
of  the  State  'or  National  Committee,  but  a  joint 
enterprise  of  several  of  the  members  of  both,  feel 
ing  assured  that  the  committee  would  most 
heartily  approve  of  it.  Mr.  Blaine,  on  receipt 
of  the  telegram,  sent  his  son  Walker  on  to  New 
York  City  at  once  with  the  letter  required.  On 
his  arrival  there,  he  called  on  the  committee  and 
made  known  his  errand.  Several  members  of  the 
committees  were  in  doubt  as  to  the  propriety  of 
the  proposed  course,  and  so  called  to  their  council 
the  editor  of  a  great  Eepublican  journal  and  a 
United  States  Senator  from  this  State,  who  was 
then  in  the  city.  These  two  gentlemen  were  so 
vehement  in  their  denunciation  of  the  project,  so 
sanguine  of  success  without  the  aid  of  Mr.  Conk- 
ling,  that  the  whole  matter  was  thrown  up,  and 
Mr.  Walker  Blaine  returned,  carrying  the  auto 
graph  letter  back  to  his  father. 

This  is  the  story  in  brief,  as  told  me  with  every 
assurance  of  its  truthfulness.  Whether  it  be  or 
not,  of  course,  I  cannot  say.  However,  my  in 
formant  occupies  a  high  political  station  and  has 
excellent  opportunities  for  knowing  whereof  he 
speaks.  I  cannot  imagine  any  object  or  purpose 
he  could  have  had  in  fabrication  or  in  misleading 


42  Letters-Essays 


me.  There  are  those  who  can  speak  positively, 
and  if  this  shall  in  any  manner  aid  in  eliciting 
the  truth  I  shall  be  pleased. 

NOTE — The  foregoing  was  addressed  to  Editor  Fay  and 
written  in  the  fall  of  1887.  Mr.  James  G.  Elaine  was  de 
feated  for  the  Presidency  in  1884,  by  failing  to  carry  New 
York.  Mr.  Cleveland  carried  it  by  only  about  eleven  hun 
dred  plurality.  The  statements  made  in  this  article  were 
hotly  assailed  by  various  newspapers,  and,  I  think,  had  the 
better  of  the  argument.  My  informant  was  Senator  George 
Z.  Erwin. 


PERMELTA    S.    BROOKS 


petmelia  S*  Brooke 


EEMELIA  S.  BEOOKS  was  a  daughter  of 
Col.  Sanford  and  was  born  in  Hopkinton 
July  2nd,  1819.  She  died  at  her  home  in 
Potsdam  October  16,  1886.  On  Novem 
ber  10th,  1841,  she  joined  Erasmus  D.  Brooks,  a 
live  and  enterprising  young  merchant  at  Parish- 
ville,  in  marriage.  Blessed  with  good  health  and 
great  physical  vigor,  she  entered  upon  life's 
duties  full  of  cheer  and  with  no  other  thought 
than  to  make  life  a  success — to  fill  her  sphere  as 
a  wife  and  'a  mother.  All  along  the  highway 
which  she  has  traversed  are  strewn  the  flowers 
and  kind  deeds  of  a  noble  woman,  dutiful  wife 
and  loving  parent.  There  are  no  places  over 
which  she  came  lazily,  indifferently  or  dreamily. 
It  is  one  unbroken  path  of  filial  love — active,  vir 
tuous,  Christian  life  and  living.  She  accepted  all 
its  duties  that  fell  to  her  with  great  womanly 
heroism  and  fortitude.  When  clouds  would 
gather  over  and  seem  to  darken  the  way,  as  they 
do  to  all  of  us  now  and  then,  they  did  not  chill 
or  dampen  her  ardor  in  well  doing  or  weaken  the 
motherly  love  with  which  she  filled  her  home. 
Always  hopeful,  looking  on  the  bright  side  of 


44  Letters-Essays 


things,  she  saw  a  silver  lining  in  all  the  clouds 
that  shadowed  her  path. 

Mrs.  Brooks  was  a  woman  of  full  medium 
height,  weighing  upwards  of  two  hundred  pounds, 
with  a  fine  complexion  and  a  bright  face,  as  is 
shown  by  her  picture. 

Six  children  were  born  to  her.  (See  obituary 
Erasmus  D.  Brooks.)  In  1858  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Brooks  came  to  this  village,  where  they  have  re 
sided  ever  since,  in  their  cheerful  and  pleasant 
home  on  Elm  street. 

Mrs.  Brooks  was  an  exceedingly  genial  and  so 
ciable  woman  and  made  friends.  She  was  fond 
of  bright  company,  and  spared  no  effort  or  pains 
to  make  it  pleasant  for  all  who  entered  her  home. 
She  was  especially  bright  and  intelligent,  and 
none  excelled  her  in  repartee — remarks  just 
spiced  enough  with  wit  and  humor  to  make  inter 
course  pleasant  and  enjoyable.  Many  of  these 
were  really  brilliant  and  are  treasured  in  the 
memories  of  those  who  heard  them. 

As  a  house- wife  she  had  no  superior.  She  loved 
her  home  and  she  gave  it  her  constant  care  and 
unremitting  attention.  It  was  always  in  order, 
everything  in  its  place  and  everything  done  with 
exquisite  taste  and  cleanliness.  Her  handiwork — 
articles  of  beauty,  taste  and  adornment — 
abounded  on  every  hand.  To  make  her  home 
bright,  inviting  and  cheerful  she  seemed  to  re 
gard  as  a  wife's  duty  as  well  as  a  pleasure. 

A  year  ago  last  May  when  in  full  health  she 


Permelia  8.  Brooks  45 

was  stricken  with  a  heart  trouble,  and  ever  since 
has  been  in  constantly  failing  health  and 
strength.  At  times  she  would  have  terribly  dis 
tressing  spells,  being  barely  able  to  breathe,  last 
ing  an  hour  or  more,  which  would  make  those 
about  her  weep  and  even  suffer  from  sheer  pity 
and  sympathy.  To  those  who  called  just  after 
her  recovery  from  one  of  these  spells  she  would 
appear  as  bright  and  cheerful  as  ever — seem  to 
forget  self  and  her  own  sad  condition  and  in 
terestingly  inquire  after  the  caller's  health  and 
that  of  his  or  her  friends. 

Since  first  taken,  with  the  exception  of  a  brief 
spell  of  a  week  or  two,  she  never  went  to  bed  or 
lay  down.  She  slept  sitting  in  a  chair  near  her 
husband's  bed  with  a  cane  by  her  side,  that  she 
might  awaken  him  in  case  of  trouble.  But,  all 
the  while,  she  was  growing  weaker  and  more 
feeble  and  less  able  to  stand  the  strain  of  the  re 
curring  bad  spells.  And  yet,  with  all  her  agony 
and  suffering,  not  a  murmur  of  complaint  ever 
escaped  her  lips.  Her  courage  and  fortitude  were 
as  remarkable  as  they  were  praiseworthy.  On 
Saturday  last  a  little  after  eight  a.  m.  a  dis 
tressing  turn  came  on.  She  had  fought  her  last 
battle.  Her  strength  gave  out  and  her  spirit  took 
its  flight. 


N  the  6th  day  of  May,  1886,  the  people  of 
this  village  held  an  immense  meeting  at 
Firemen's  Hall.  The  matter  of  drains 
and  sewers  was  the  sole  object  and  sub 
ject  before  that  meeting.  It  was  discussed  thor 
oughly  and  exhaustively.  A  proposed  bill  had 
been  prepared  and  was  read  to  that  meeting, 
which  empowered  the  Trustees  to  go  on  and  put 
in  drains  and  sewers.  A  vote  was  taken  as  to 
whether  that  bill  should  become  a  law,  and  it  was 
carried,  all  but  unanimously — there  being  only 
two  or  three  votes  against  it.  Accordingly  it  was 
sent  to  the  Legislature  and  became  a  law  at  once. 
The  Trustees  thereupon  set  to  work,  with  a  zeal 
that  was  commendable,  to  do  what  they  deemed 
was  for  the  best  interests  of  our  village  and  peo 
ple  under  that  law. 

They  tore  up  lawns  and  yards  and  made  sad 
havoc  of  our  streets,  it  is  true,  but  the  result  is, 
we  have  four  miles  or  more  of  sewers,  two  miles 
or  so  of  drainage,  a  foul  and  filthy  old  run  or 
ditch  that  passed  right  through  the  main  part  of 
the  village,  which  for  years  has  been  a  reeking 


HOSE  A  BICKNELL,  PRESIDENT 


The  Sewers  and  Trustees  47 

shame  and  disgrace,  obliterated;  sinks  and  basins, 
foul,  filthy  and  disease-breeding,  tapped  or  filled 
or  the  water  diverted;  cellars  that  have  been 
damp  and  wet  for  thirty  years,  made  dry;  some 
eighty  cesspools,  the  most  cursed  and  damnable 
institutions  with  which  any  aggregation  of  peo 
ple  was  ever  afflicted,  disinfected  and  filled.  Is 
not  that  a  grand  season 's  work?  What  can  man 
do  for  his  kind  that  is  more  humane,  more  broth 
erly  or  for  which  he  should  receive  warmer  or 
more  heartfelt  thanks,  than  to  improve  his  sani 
tary  conditions,  save  him  sickness  and  the  loss  of 
prattling  children? 

Some  men  seem  to  act  as  if  there  was  nothing 
really  essential  or  important  in  this  world  but  to 
make  money.  Health  is  nothing,  life  is  nothing, 
except  as  it  contributes  to  money  getting,  and  a 
neighbor's  health  is  nothing  at  all.  Away  with 
such  selfishness  and  with  men  of  that  ilk.  Spare 
no  effort  or  pains  to  save  your  family,  those  you 
love,  from  sickness  and  death;  join  your  neighbor 
in  every  reasonable  effort  to  keep  the  pallid 
cheek  and  fevered  brow  of  sickness  from  his 
home. 

Heretofore  there  has  been  no  possible  way  of 
getting  rid  of  the  slops,  garbage,  etc.,  except  to 
have  vaults,  cesspools,  etc.,  or  a  ditch  or  private 
drain  to  some  hollow  or  basin  out  by  the  road 
side  or  over  against  a  neighbor;  no  way  to  get 
the  water  out  of  the  cellar,  in  which  in  many 
cases  it  remained  the  year  round.  Now  all  this 


48  Letters-Essays 


is  changed  as  to  four  miles  and  over  of  streets. 
Every  man  can  now  drain  his  cellar,  ship  away 
to  a  remote  point  all  his  offal  and  slops  by  simply 
digging  a  ditch  and  laying  a  pipe  out  to  the  road 
and  there  connecting  with  a  pipe  which  all  his 
neighbors  have  contributed  in  bringing  almost 
to  his  very  door.  This  done,  there  will  be  no  oc 
casion  for  cesspools.  The  year  1886  marks  their 
departure.  Their  removal  alone  is  worth  five, 
yea,  a  hundred  times  the  whole  expense  of  the 
sewers. 

The  sewers  in,  there  will  be  no  occasion  for 
our  stores,  hotels,  etc.,  to  run  all  their  slops,  filth 
and  garbage  into  the  pond  from  which  we  get  our 
water  supply,  nor  will  it  longer  be  permitted. 

Who  wrought  all  these  blessings  to  our  village 
and  people  T  The  Trustees.  Why  did  they  do  it  ? 
Did  they  do  it  from  any  selfish  interest  or  mo 
tives?  Did  they  make  anything  out  of  it  I  No. 
No  one  even  whispers  any  charges  of  that  kind. 
The  work  was  most  thoroughly  done  and  at  a  sur 
prisingly  small  expense — considerably  less  than 
any  estimate  that  was  made.  In  fact,  the  expense 
was  from  a  half  to  a  third  less  than  we  had  ex 
pected. 

The  whole  board  gave  it  their  constant  care  and 
attention  all  the  summer  and  all  the  fall,  hold 
ing  meetings  almost  every  evening,  discussing 
this  subject  and  that,  looking  after  this  item  and 
that,  watching  the  whole  work  as  it  progressed. 
Two  members  of  the  board  gave  the  matter  sub- 


The  Sewers  and  Trustees  49 

stantially  all  their  time  from  the  beginning  to 
its  completion. 

I  both  honor  and  respect  our  physicians  for 
the  part  they  have  taken  in  this  whole  matter. 
From  the  start,  with  only  one  exception,  they 
have  urged  on  this  whole  movement  and  aided 
in  every  way  they  could.  Were  they  as  selfish 
and  mercenary  as  the  most  of  us,  they  would 
have  opposed  it,  since  they  live  on  sickness.  Had 
they  done  so  by  united  action  I  doubt  very  much 
whether  any  'Street,  unless  perhaps  Elm  and  part 
of  Main,  would  have  been  sewered.  So,  I  say,  all 
hail  to  the  doctors. 

It  is  indeed  fortunate  that  we  had  a  Board  of 
Trustees  composed  of  men  of  intelligence,  men, 
who,  believing  their  cause  was  just,  were  not 
afraid  to  face  obloquy — to  face  the  jeers  and 
sneers  of  the  multitude;  men  with  the  courage 
of  their  convictions.  Had  they  not  been  such, 
not  a  foot  of  sewer  would  have  been  laid  outside 
of  Elm  street.  Abused  and  maligned  on  every 
hand,  they  heeded  it  not,  but  quietly  and  orderly 
pushed  on  the  work.  They  felt  that  what  they 
were  doing  was  for  the  public  weal  and  that  in 
the  end  those  who  cursed  them  would  not  only 
repent  but  thank  them.  They  were  taking  a  great 
responsibility  upon  themselves,  giving  up  two 
seasons  of  their  time  without  compensation;  in 
curring  the  displeasure  of  many  and  the  bitter 
enmity  of  others,  for  what?  Was  there  any 
pleasure  in  it?  Do  men  sacrifice  or  neglect  their 


50  Letters-Essays 


own  business,  work  for  the  public  or  their  neigh 
bors  who  are  abusing  them,  for  the  fun  of  it? 
And  again,  the  law  was  so  drawn  that  they  had 
no  money  and  could  get  no  money  to  carry  on  the 
work.  They  could  not  construct  the  sewers  with 
out  money.  What  were  they  to  do!  Most  men 
would  have  declined  to  buy  a  pick  or  a  shovel 
unless  the  money  was  supplied  them.  What  did 
they  do?  Put  their  hands  in  their  pockets,  or 
what  was  the  same  thing,  personally  incurred  the 
entire  responsibility,  got  the  money  and  went 
ahead.  How  many  men  are  there  among  us  who 
would  do  that? 

If  there  were  ever  five  men  in  this  community 
to  whom  we  are  indebted,  to  whom  we  are  under 
lasting  obligations,  they  are  our  present  five 
Trustees.  In  my  humble  opinion  no  five  men 
have  ever  done  a  greater  work  for  this  village 
and  its  people  than  they.  A  great  many  of  our 
people  recognize  this  fact  now  and  those  who  do 
not  will,  I  am  sure,  in  the  near  future. 

There  is  much  to  be  done  yet — no  heavy  ex 
pense  or  outlay,  but  any  number  of  little  things, 
odds  and  ends  to  pick  up  and  close  up.  There  are 
no  other  five  or  even  ten  men  among  us  who  know 
so  much  about  it,  who  know  just  what  is  neces 
sary  to  be  done  or  who  know  so  well  how  to  do 
it  as  they.  This  has  been  and  is  their  work,  and 
I  submit  they  should  not  only  be  allowed  but  re 
quired  to  complete  and  finish  it.  If  they  should 
decline  to  serve  again  we  could  with  much  justice 


MAJOR  WILLIAM   H.   WALLING 


The  Sewers  and  Trustees  51 

insist  on  their  doing  so,  for  the  reason  that  their 
work  is  not  quite  complete. 

Every  voter  should  attend  the  coming  caucus 
and,  forgetting  all  bitterness,  passion  and  feeling, 
cast  his  ballot  for  the  renomination  of  the  old 
Board.  It  is  due  them  as  an  indorsement  of  their 
work.  Not  to  do  so  stamps  them  with  our  dis 
approval.  Those  who  do  not  support  them  will 
live  to  regret  their  act. 

COMMENT,  February,  1907.— The  foregoing 
article  was  written  late  in  December,  1886,  as  may 
be  plainly  seen,  to  induce  a  public  sentiment  fa 
vorable  to  a  renomination  of  the  Old  Board.  As 
it  contains  quite  a  little  record  of  the  most  im 
portant  event  in  the  history  of  Potsdam  village, 
I  give  it  place  in  this  volume,  and  more  particu 
larly  for  the  reason  that  it  affords  an  opportunity, 
after  the  lapse  of  twenty  years,  when  all  rancor 
and  bitterness  have  passed  away,  of  commend 
ing  that  Board  for  the  grand  and  noble  work  that 
it  did. 

During  all  the  intervening  twenty  years,  I  have 
thought  that  something  should  be  done  to  com 
memorate  their  memory.  They  are  entitled,  as  I 
said  in  the  article  then,  to  the  lasting  gratitude 
of  all  the  residents  of  the  village  living  and  that 
shall  live  within  its  bounds.  Their  work 
cleansed,  purified  and  redeemed  the  village  and 
made  it  a  fit  and  habitable  place  in  which  to  live. 
Those  of  our  people  who  were  not  residents  then, 
and  those  not  old  enough  to  appreciate  or  under- 


52  Letters-Essays 


stand  the  storm  of  protest,  vilification  and  abuse 
under  which  the  Trustees  labored  and  through 
which  they  passed  in  doing  the  work,  have  lit 
tle  idea  of  their  trials  or  discomforts  in  ac 
complishing  the  work.  Some  people  I  fear  would 
have  weakened  and  put  in  sewers  in  only  one  or 
two  streets.  But  they  did  not  relax.  There 
were  times,  I  confess,  when  it  was  feared  that 
they  would  weaken  and,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
loyal,  vigorous  and  persistent  moral  support  of 
such  men  as  Charles  0.  Tappan,  George  W. 
Bonney,  T.  Streatfield  Clarkson,  Dr.  Jesse  Rey 
nolds,  Dr.  L.  E.  Felton,  Erasmus  D.  Brooks,  Gen. 
E.  A.  Merritt,  Hollis  Snell,  William  W.  Weed,  Dr. 
Reynold  M.  Kirby  and  some  others  whose  names 
I  cannot  now  recall,  it  is  quite  possible  that  they 
would  have  greatly  curtailed  their  work.  Had 
they  not  had  this  backing,  who  could  have 
blamed  them  with  the  populace  wild  and  crazy 
over  the  great  expense?  This  they  faced,  to  do 
their  duty  and  therefore  earned  their  praise. 
There  were  many  good  men  who  neither  sup 
ported  nor  opposed  the  work,  holding  and  believ 
ing  that  sewers  would  be  in  the  nature  of  a  lux 
ury  of  which  only  the  rich  could  take  advantage. 
The  sewers  were  brought  about  by  a  great 
amount  of  sickness  that  fell  upon  the  village  in 
the  spring  of  1886,  beginning  in  March  and  con 
tinuing  into  June.  I  kept  a  record  of  the  cases 
and  still  have  it.  There  were  about  one  hundred 
and  seventy-five  during  that  time,  many  of  them 


The  Sewers  and  Trustees  53 

light,  and  twenty-five  or  six  deaths,  though  not 
all  died  in  the  village,  a  few  going  home  when 
taken  sick.  The  village  had  been  afflicted  nearly 
every  spring  and  fall  with  more  than  normal 
fever  cases,  and  at  some  seasons  with  >an  exces 
sive  amount,  back  as  far  as  1867.  Such  sickness 
was  the  cause  of  the  putting  in  of  a  complete 
water  works  system  in  the  year  1870,  at  an  ex 
pense  of  $50,000,  but  it  did  not  prove  to  lessen 
the  sickness — it  continued  the  same  as  before  till 
the  great  outbreak  in  1886.  At  that  time  it  was 
so  great  that  the  people  forgot  their  pocketbooks 
and  were  willing  to  do  most  anything  to  bring 
relief.  A  special  meeting  was  called  to  be  held 
May  6th  in  Firemen's  Hall,  to  take  action  on  a 
system  of  sewers  and  drains.  It  was  conceived 
and  conducted  by  Judge  Charles  0.  Tappan,  to 
his  memory  and  credit,  be  it  said. 

Enthusiastic  speeches  were  made  in  favor  of 
the  project  by  Hon.  William  A.  Dart,  Dr.  Jesse 
Reynolds,  Prof.  E.  H.  Cook,  Gen.  E.  A.  Merritt, 
John  A.  Vance,  Judge  Tappan  and  others.  Judge 
Tappan  had  a  prepared  bill  authorizing  the  Trus 
tees  to  put  in  a  complete  system  of  sewers  and 
drains.  It  was  read  and  adopted  by  a  great  vote, 
only  three  men  having  the  face  to  say  "  No." 
It  was  mailed  to  Senator  Erwin  in  Albany,  the 
Legislature  being  about  to  close,  and  he,  by  his 
influence  and  power  there,  secured  its  passage 
and  enactment  in  three  or  four  days. 

The  Trustees,   backed  arid  supported  by  the 


54  Letters-Essays 


leading  men  I  have  named,  took  steps  immedi 
ately  to  put  the  Act  into  effect,  and  it  was  well 
that  they  did.     It  was  also  very  fortunate  that 
the  Board,   elected  in  the    January  preceding, 
contained  such  public  spirited  men  as  it  did.    Had 
they  not  been  such,  there  is  no  telling  what  would 
have  been  done,  nor  even  that  anything  would 
have  been  attempted.     The  Board  consisted  of 
Hosea  Bicknell,  Chairman; 
Thomas  S.  Clarkson, 
William  H.  Walling, 
Charles  L.  Hackett  and 

D.  Frank  Ellis, 

all  living  to-day  except  Mr.  Clarkson,  who  was 
injured  at  his  quarries  and  died  in  1894. 

The  sickness  began  to  abate  soon  after  the  law 
was  passed  and  there  was  a  great  revulsion  of 
public  sentiment  against  the  project.  Petitions 
were  promptly  signed,  remonstrances  filed,  angry 
meetings  held,  but  still  the  streets  were  being  dug 
up  in  every  direction.  On  went  the  work.  The 
Board  heard  not  and  this  intensified  the  feeling. 
Small  crowds  gathered  here  and  there,  and  were 
harangued  by  men  I  could  name,  though  prob 
ably  it  is  not  best.  They  were  simply  mistaken. 
The  most  of  the  abuse  was  aimed  at  Mr.  Bick 
nell  since  he  was  Chairman  and  gave  practically 
his  entire  time  to  the  work.  Mr.  Clarkson  also 
gave  much  of  his  time.  Many  hearings  were 
given  by  the  Board  and  many  meetings,  during 
all  the  summer  and  fall. 


CHARLES  L.    HACKETT 


The  Sewers  and  Trustees  55 

The  work  begun,  there  must  be  money.  The 
Trustees  had  none  for  the  sewer  part  of  the 
work.  What  was  to  be  done?  Raise  it  in  some 
way.  Did  they?  Yes.  How?  Messrs.  Thomas 
S.  Clarkson,  Hosea  Bicknell,  William  H.  Wal 
ling  and  Charles  0.  Tappan  put  their  names  to 
four  $5000  notes  and  got  it  of  the  bank.  Was 
not  that  both  heroism  and  patriotism? 

There  were  four  and  40/100  miles  of  sewer  put 
in  during  that  time  at  a  cost  of  $24,500  and  three 
and  28/100  miles  of  drains  at  an  expense  of  $25,- 
560.  It  was  work  rapidly  done,  well  done  and 
judiciously,  a  grand  achievement,  a  noble  work 
for  the  village  and  humanity.  With  the  close  of 
the  year  it  was  not  quite  complete  in  detail  and 
some  minor  matters,  and  the  friends  of  the  Board 
felt  that  they  should  be  re-elected,  not  only  to 
complete  the  work,  but  especially  as  a  vindica 
tion. 

A  citizens'  caucus  was  called  and  held  in  the 
last  days  of  December,  1886.  It  was  a  motley 
throng.  The  friends  of  the  old  Board  were  de 
termined  and  persistent,  and,  led  by  Judge  Tap- 
pan,  fought  every  inch.  They  were  outnum 
bered,  but  by  having  printed  ballots,  carried  the 
day.  The  opposition  was  so  chagrined  and  bitter 
that  they  held  a  bolting  caucus  and  named 
George  Pert,  Harvey  M.  Story,  James  Lemon, 
Luther  E.  Wadleigh  and  Isaac  Mathews  for 
Trustees.  The  issue  joined,  the  canvass  began. 
It  is  doubtful  if  a  harder  or  more  intense  mu- 


56  Letters-Essays 


nicipal  struggle  ever  took  place  in  the  village. 
Over  seven  hundred  votes  were  cast,  the  old 
Board  winning  by  from  thirteen  to  thirty  votes. 
Thus  came  the  sewers  and  drains  to  the  vil 
lage.  It  was  a  fight  and  this  time  right  won.  In 
this  connection  mention  should  be  made  of  an 
other  struggle  almost  as  bitter  as  that  over  the 
sewers.  Several  people  were  using  the  pond  and 
open  runways  for  private  sewerage.  Cesspools, 
the  most  damning  device  ever  adopted  in  a  con 
gregation  of  people,  were  all  about  the  village, 
their  contents  decaying,  rotting,  fermenting  and 
poisoning  the  earth  and  wells  far  and  near. 
Competent  judges  estimated  their  number  from 
one  hundred  to  two  hundred.  We  had  had 
Boards  of  Health,  but  they  were  awed,  fright 
ened  and  intimidated  into  doing  practically 
nothing.  The  excuse  of  some  of  the  powerful 
had  been  that  there  was  no  other  place  than  the 
river  and  open  drains  for  sewage,  and  when  the 
sewers  were  put  in  they  even  then  practically  de 
clined  to  connect.  At  this  juncture  Mr.  Ogden 
H.  Tappan,  Prof.  E.  H.  Cook  and  J.  W.  Barbour 
were  finally  induced  to  become  the  Board  of 
Health.  Each  was  elected  because  of  his  known 
courage  and  fearlessness  to  make  both  high  and 
low  do  what  was  right.  Dr.  L.  E.  Felton  became 
Health  Officer  and  rendered  most  excellent  ser 
vice.  Mr.  Tappan  was  then  a  young  man,  but 
he  had  the  courage  of  his  convictions  and  the 
nerve  and  executive  force  to  compel  compliance 


The  Sewers  and  Trustees  57 

with  sanitary  regulations  and  the  law.  In  this 
struggle  he  took  the  leadership  which  his  father 
had  in  the  sewer  question. 

Suits  were  brought,  attorneys  engaged,  but  the 
Board  of  Health  had  to  go  out  of  town  to  get 
them,  and  judgments  secured.  Relentlessly  they 
kept  on  till  practically  all  private  sewers  to  the 
river  and  open  drains  were  taken  out,  and  until 
all  known  cesspools  were  cleaned  out  and  filled 
with  earth  and  lime. 

The  work  done,  sickness  in  the  way  of  fever 
ceased,  and  it  seems  ceased  for  good.  There 
was  no  recurring  fever  sickness,  even  in  the 
spring  or  fall  of  1887.  The  sewers  in  and  cess 
pools  removed,  fever  sickness  at  once  disap 
peared.  The  origin  had  been  found  and  re 
moved.  Whether  the  cause  was  cesspools  or  the 
want  of  sewerage  can  never  be  known,  though  I 
suspect  the  removal  of  cesspools  and  the  intro 
duction  of  sewerage  both  contributed  in  practi 
cally  eradicating  fever  sickness  from  the  village. 
At  the  time  I  was  quite  inclined  to  think  that 
most  if  not  all  the  sickness  in  1886  was  due  to 
the  excrement  of  a  fever  patient  being  thrown 
into  the  river.  It  could  not  then  be  decided  and, 
of  course,  cannot  now,  though  I  still  cling  to  my 
belief.  If  it  was,  it  does  not  help  us  or  explain 
the  spring  and  fall  sickness  for  twenty  years 
previous.  If  it  was,  and  the  village  could  not 
otherwise  get  sewers  and  a  removal  of  cesspools, 
than  by  such  an  affliction,  I  am  tempted  to  say 


58  Letters-Essays 


that  it  was  well  that  it  came.  No  recurrence  of 
fever  sickness  has  afflicted  the  village  during  all 
the  intervening  period  of  time.  For  the  past 
twenty  years  it  has  been  one  of  the  healthiest 
villages  in  the  State  and  the  record  of  vital  sta 
tistics  at  Albany  prove  this,  as  any  one  can  see 
by  the  reports.  Prior  to  1886  for  about  twenty 
years  it  had  been  quite  unhealthy.  Now  practi 
cally  every  home  has  sewer  connections,  and  no 
one  would  be  without  them  under  any  circum 
stances,  nor  can  any  man  now  be  found  who 
would  admit  that  he  ever  opposed  the  sewers. 
The  sewers  have  also  been  greatly  extended  since 
their  installment. 

Was  not  the  work  of  the  Trustees  for  1886,  and 
those  who  stood  by  them  and  back  of  them  and 
with  them,  a  grand  work,  and  should  they  not 
be  forever  honored  and  remembered?  To  them, 
one  and  all,  I  say,  All  Hail!  You  did  a  great  and 
noble  work  for  your  village  and  for  humanity. 


license  or  1Ro«=%icen8e.  Wbicb 
Shall  ft  Be? 


a  ""HE  voters  of  Potsdam,  and  of  every  other 
town  in  the  county,  will,  on  the  8th  day 
of  February  next  (1887),  be  called  upon 
to  determine  whether  intoxicating  liquor 
shall  be  sold  in  their  respective   towns  or  not. 
The  law,  as  it  now  stands,  makes  it  the  duty  of 
every  voter  by  his  ballot  to  say  yes  or  no. 

The  Legislature  has  relegated  the  question  of 
sale  or  no  sale  to  the  people  of  each  town.  The 
wish  or  will  of  the  voters  of  every  town  on  this 
question  as  expressed  by  their  ballots  becomes 
the  law  of  that  town.  There  is  no  middle  ground. 
There  is  no  way  under  the  law  to  prevent  its  sale 
except  to  have  a  preponderance  of  negative 
votes.  There  is  no  way  to  secure  its  sale  under 
the  law  except  to  have  a  majority  of  the  votes  in 
the  affirmative.  Therefore,  the  duty  of  every 
citizen  is  not  only  plain,  but  apparent  and  para 
mount.  No  voter  can  shirk  the  responsibility 
which  is  upon  him,  in  justice  to  himself,  his  peo 
ple,  or  the  State. 

The  question  is  before  us  and  a  vote  about  to 
be  taken.  How  shall  we  vote?  It  is  well  that 


60  Letters-Essays 


we  give  the  matter  our  candid,  sober,  serious 
thought.  It  does  not  fall  to  the  lot  of  many  of 
us  to  ever  act  in  a  matter  more  important  than 
this,  or  in  one  fraught  with  more  direful  conse 
quences.  As  you  shall  vote,  so  you  will  speak, 
for  the  weal  or  woe  of  your  brother — your  neigh 
bor.  As  you  shall  vote,  so  you  will  speak,  either 
for  or  against  the  good  order  and  well  being  of 
society.  As  you  shall  vote,  so  you  will  say 
whether  peace  and  sun-shine,  or  anguish  and  sor 
row,  shall  go  into  many  homes  in  this  town  and 
county.  Is  this  true?  Does  so  much  as  this  de 
pend  on  how  we  vote?  Let  us  see.  Let  us  look 
at  the  matter  and  calmly  and  dispassionately.  I 
am  no  temperance  bigot,  fanatic  or  crank.  I  have 
seen  the  "  ins  and  outs  "  of  rum.  I  have  been 
along  its  tortuous  and  serpentine  way.  I  have 
seen  the  midnight  lamp  set  by  the  loving  tender 
ness  of  the  mother  to  guide  the  erring  and  uneven 
footsteps  of  her  dear  boy.  I  have  seen  the  father, 
kind  and  loving,  transformed  by  drink  into  a 
beast,  driving  a  true  and  loving  little  woman — 
his  wife — into  the  street  with  curses  and  blas 
phemy.  I  have  seen  little  children — wan  and 
half  clad — the  offspring  of  intemperance,  whose 
sad  faces  and  pitiable  condition  would  bring  a 
tear  from  the  stoutest  heart.  I  have  helped  to 
bury  its  victims,  bright  young  men,  the  pride  and 
hope  of  loving  parents;  middle  aged  men,  kind 
and  loving  husbands  and  parents.  Is  this  true? 
Are  such  things  going  on,  taking  place,  in  this 


License  or  No-License?  61 

Christian  and  enlightened  age?  If  you  doubt  it, 
look  about  you.  Go  to  the  hovel  or  home  of  the 
intemperate  poor.  Count  up  on  your  fingers  the 
young  men  and  middle  aged  men  that  you 
know,  who  are  now  on  the  highway  of  in 
temperance.  Then  make  a  list  of  those  you  have 
known  who  have  ' '  fallen  by  the  wayside  ' '  before 
this  demon  of  drink,  and  you  will  not  ask  if  what 
I  say  be  true.  What  has  done  and  is  doing  such 
work  as  this?  Eum.  The  legalizing  of  certain 
places  to  deal  out  liquor  to  our  boys — to  mankind. 
What  reason  is  there  for  it?  What  return  does 
the  State  get  for  the  legal  privilege  it  grants? 
Surely  there  must  be  some  compensation,  some 
return,  for  so  much  misery  and  sorrow,  so  much 
anguish  and  suffering.  What  is  it?  What  argu 
ments  are  advanced  in  favor  of  license!  Let  us 
see.  I  will  be  fair — I  will  give  all  that  are 
known  to  me.  If  they  be  ample  compensation  for 
the  wretchedness  and  sorrow  that  license  directly 
entails  on  mankind,  then  I  will  admit  that  the 
cause  I  plead  is  wrong. 

The  first  and  fundamental  reason  or  argument 
of  all  pro-license  men  is  that  every  man  has  a 
right  to  "  eat,  drink  and  wear  "  whatever  he 
pleases.  This  has  been  and  is  their  Declaration 
of  Independence.  To  it  they  cling  with  the  tenac 
ity  of  life  itself.  Has  a  man  the  right  to  eat  or 
drink  poison?  No,  neither  a  moral  nor  a  legal 
right.  The  law  makes  it  a  crime  to  attempt  to 
commit  suicide.  The  mere  fact  of  our  existence 


62  Letters-Essays 


carries  with  it  certain  duties  and  obligations.  No 
man  living  among  others  has  all  his  native,  nat 
ural  rights.  The  great  bulk  of  them  are  given 
up  to  the  State.  If  you  would  have  them  all,  you 
must  go  into  the  forest  wilds  and  live  alone.  But 
you  can  drink  what  you  please  and  to  your 
heart's  content.  You  can  take  it  to  your  home 
and  there  guzzle  as  you  will,  and  no  man  can 
molest  or  make  you  afraid,  unless  you  abuse 
your  wife  or  children.  Isn't  that  freedom 
enough?  If  you  have  a  right  to  drink  what  you 
please,  have  you  a  right  to  get  drunk  and  go 
prowling  and  blaspheming  about  the  streets  ?  No, 
certainly  not.  The  moment  you  do  this  you  inter 
fere  with  the  rights  of  others,  and  this  you  have 
no  moral  or  legal  right  to  do.  But  the  right  of 
private  drinking,  and  the  establishing  of  certain 
places  where  all  can  get  liquor,  are  different 
things  altogether.  The  former  only  concerns 
yourself,  the  latter  the  public.  "With  the  welfare 
of  the  public  the  State  is  most  intimately  con 
cerned.  It  is  not  only  its  right,  but  its  duty  to 
prevent  pauperism  and  crime,  to  shield  the  weak 
and  to  stay  the  arm  of  the  strong.  But  why  ar 
gue  this  further? 

The  courts,  not  only  of  this  State,  but  of  every 
State  and  of  every  civilized  country  on  earth 
have  decided  that  the  regulation  of  the  sale  of 
intoxicating  liquor  comes  within  the  police  power 
of  the  State.  So,  then,  you  have  a  right  to  drink, 
but  no  moral  or  legal  right  to  open  a  bar  to  sell 


License  or  No-License?  63 

to  others,  except  as  the  law  grants  it  to  you. 
Then,  as  you  must  admit,  there  is  no  force  in  your 
claim  that  you  have  the  right  to  "  eat,  drink  and 
wear  "  whatever  you  please,  as  giving  you  the 
right  to  sell  others  liquor  because  they  wish  to 
drink. 

The  second  claim  or  reason  advanced  by  those 
who  favor  license  is,  that  there  is  a  demand  for 
it;  that  so  long  as  liquor  is  manufactured  it  will 
be  sold;  that  if  it  is  to  be  sold  it  is  better  that 
its  sale  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  men  who  are 
known — men  who  will  not  abuse  the  privilege; 
that  licensing  will  stop  the  terrible  evil  of  illicit 
selling.  This  is  the  argument  of  every  liquor 
seller,  every  drunkard,  every  tippler,  every  man 
who  now  and  then  takes  a  drink,  every  unthink 
ing  man  who  makes  loud  proclamation  of  his 
'  *  eternal  right  to  liberty. "  It  is  a  plausible  one, 
I  admit.  If  I  am  any  judge,  it  is  the  argument 
which  carried  the  day  in  this  village  two  years 
ago  for  license.  It  was  then  quite  forcibly  and 
adroitly  put  before  your  readers  in  a  long  com 
munication  which  is  before  me.  I  wonder  if  the 
young  man  who  wrote  it  has  not  since  seen  times 
when  he  wished  he  had  not  done  so.  I  wonder 
if  the  business  men  who  signed  it  have  not  re 
gretted  that  they  did?  I  personally  know  that 
several  of  them  could  not  be  hired  to  do  it  now. 
A  change  for  the  better  has  come  over  them.  The 
spirit  of  the  times  has  touched  their  hearts. 

But  to  the  argument.     Let  us  take  it  up  se- 


64  Letters-Essays 


riatim.  We  are  told  that  there  is  a  demand  for 
it.  Yes,  I  admit  it,  and  I  am  sorry  that  it  is  so. 
Are  you  not,  Mr.  License  Man?  Do  you  not  wish 
that  your  eyes  should  never  see  a  drunken  man 
again?  If  you  do  (and  surely  you  must,  if  you 
have  a  spark  of  manhood  or  brotherly  feeling  in 
you),  then  do  you  think  it  wise  or  politic  or  best 
to  supply  that  demand,  to  intensify  and  increase 
it?  How  will  that  help  matters?  If  you  sell  to 
those  who  thirst  for  it  and  must  have  it,  you 
will  necessarily  be  obliged  to  sell  to  others  who 
are  drawn  into  the  maelstrom  of  drink  by  them. 
So  that  five  years,  ten  years,  hence,  though  many 
of  those  who  now  demand  it  be  dead,  a  new  army 
of  tipplers  is  on  hand  to  demand  it.  So,  using 
your  "  remedy,"  which  is  no  remedy  but  an  ag 
gravation,  this  demand  would  always  be  kept 
good.  But  in  reply  to  this,  you  say  if  men  be 
not  licensed  to  sell,  others  will  do  so  covertly,  se 
cretly,  and  in  defiance  of  all  law  or  decency.  I 
admit  it.  But  is  that  any  reason  why  we  should 
set  the  seal  of  public  approval  on  wrong  doing? 
Because  low,  disreputable  men,  vagabonds  in  so 
ciety,  without  regard  for  law,  public  morals  or 
decency,  will  surely  do  that  which  is  confessedly 
wrong,  is  that  any  reason  why  the  public  should 
do  the  same  thing  in  a  highly  gilded  >and  fes 
tooned  bar-room?  Does  drinking  over  a  marble 
top  counter,  in  front  of  a  costly  mirror,  with  finely 
cut  bottles,  beautifully  decorated  and  artistically 
arranged,  help  the  matter  any?  Is  it  any  less 


License  or  No-License  f  65 

an  evil  to  drink  in  such  places  than  to  crawl  into 
some  alley  or  by-place  and  do  it?  Because  some 
men  will  steal  would  it  be  well  to  appoint  a  com 
mittee  to  do  the  stealing  for  the  town,  or  to  abol 
ish  all  laws  against  theft?  The  fact  is  that  the 
selling  of  liquor  as  a  beverage  is  an  evil,  a  wrong. 
Gloss  and  gild  it  as  you  will,  you  cannot  hide 
the  cloven  foot  that  is  behind  it.  Because  vaga 
bonds  will  sell  it  if  you  do  not  license  men  to  do 
so,  is  no  argument  why  we  should  do  so.  If  it 
were,  you  could  with  equal  reason  wipe  out  half 
the  laws  that  guard  and  preserve  society.  There 
is  no  way  that  wrong  can  be  legalized  into  right. 
No  way  that  baneful  practices  can  be  made  pro 
ductive  of  public  good.  How  can  a  law  that 
grants  a  party  the  right — or  should  I  say  privi 
lege — to  do  a  wrong  be  upheld  or  maintained? 
Is  not  the  State  in  passing  such  a  law  a  party  to 
the  wrong? 

But  does  the  licensing  of  its  sale  stop  the  il 
licit,  unlawful  sale  of  liquor?  Does  it  drive  the 
low,  dirty  rascals  out  of  the  business?  That  it 
would,  was  the  main  argument  for  license  two 
years  ago.  Give  us  a  license,  was  the  cry  then, 
and  we  will  stop  this  cursed  and  nefarious  illicit 
selling.  We  took  you  at  your  word.  We  gave 
you  a  license.  Were  you  right?  Has  it  stopped 
it  ?  No !  not  even  for  a  day  nor  an  hour.  Every 
man  who  has  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to  hear  is  pain 
fully  aware  of  the  truth  of  what  I  say.  Every 
man  who  holds  a  license  knows  it.  It  has  been 


66  Letters-Essays 


going  on  right  under  your  very  eyes.  Have  you 
done  anything  to  stop  it?  Have  you  lifted  your 
hands  against  it  I  No,  not  one  of  you.  No  doubt 
you  have  regretted  it,  for  it  hurt  your  trade,  but 
further  than  this  not  a  murmur  of  complaint  has 
escaped  your  lips.  "Why  have  you  not  kept  your 
promise?  Why  have  you  not  protected  the 
monopoly  which  the  law  granted  you?  If  it  was 
worth  taking  was  it  not  worth  guarding?  Are 
you  so  liberal  and  generous  that  you  were  willing 
to  pay  a  large  fee  for  a  license  and  then  let  others 
share  the  trade  without  fee?  Why  have  you  not 
hunted  them  out  and  driven  them  either  out  of 
the  business  or  into  prison? 

Now,  I  submit,  would  it  not  be  better  to  hunt 
down  these  illicit  venders,  these  vagabonds,  even 
though  it  takes  years  and  the  public  be  compelled 
to  rise  up  en  masse  against  them,  than  to  legalize 
its  sale — to  open  bar  rooms  and  saloons?  These 
are  the  places  where  most  young  men  get  started 
on  ihe  wild  and  maddening  career  of  intemper 
ance.  Only  drinkers  can  get  it  of  the  illicit 
dealer.  A  boy  with  any  pride  or  manly  feeling 
in  him  would  not  seek  out  the  illicit  dealer  if  he 
oould,  and  with  rare  exceptions  he  could  not  if  he 
would.  Into  the  bar-room  they  can  go  with  the 
gentry  of  the  town.  To  drink  there  and  with 
these  leading  young  men  is  high-toned,  and  be 
sides  the  bar-room  and  saloon  are  always  open. 
Into  them  you  can  go  at  any  time  and  get  liquor 
without  let  or  hindrance.  With  the  illicit  dealer 


License  or  No-License?  67 

that  is  not  the  case.  If  you  are  not  a  known  tip 
pler  you  can  not  get  it.  You  must  hunt  up  some 
loafer  who  is  known,  to  go  and  get  it  for  you.  The 
bar-room  and  the  saloon  are  the  crying  evils  of 
this  day  and  age.  It  is  in  them  that  the  seeds 
of  intemperance  are  sown.  It  is  in  them  that  the 
first  steps  are  taken.  They  are  the  nurseries  of 
drunkenness. 

In  the  third  place  it  is  claimed  that  as  liquor 
will  be  sold  in  any  event,  we  had  better  grant 
licenses,  getting  a  fee  therefor,  as  some  compen 
sation  for  the  pauperism  and  destitution  which 
the  sale  of  liquor,  illicit  or  otherwise,  entails  on 
the  community — that  there  is  a  great  demand  for 
it  for  medicinal  and  other  purposes  than  as  a 
beverage,  and  that  it  can  not  be  had  unless  some 
place  be  licensed.  As  to  the  first  point,  I  main 
tain  that  it  has  no  force  or  strength,  especially 
with  us  in  these  rural  sections,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  we  can  stop  its  sale,  illicit  or  other 
wise,  if  we  will.  Our  villages  are  not  so  large 
but  that  we  can  know  every  den  and  dive  and 
hole  if  we  will.  Public  sentiment  has  sufficiently 
advanced  in  this  town  and  in  most  towns  to  up 
hold  and  maintain  the  law.  In  some  of  the  west 
ern  states  their  prohibiting  laws  do  not  seem  to 
prohibit,  and  they  have  enacted  high  license  laws 
as  the  only  expedient  at  hand.  But  I  venture  to 
say  that  this  will  not  cure  the  evil  or  greatly  help 
matters.  Licensing,  be  it  for  a  large  fee  or  a 
small  one,  will  not  stop  illicit  selling.  What  we 


68  Letters-Essays 


want  here  and  all  we  want  is  that  the  leading 
men  of  the  village  shall  raise  their  hands  and  say 
that  the  unlawful  and  illicit  sale  of  liquor  in  this 
village  shall  cease.  Let  them  do  that,  and  in  six 
months  from  the  first  of  next  May  I  will  guaran 
tee  you  a  village  as  free  from  rum  and  the  evils 
of  intemperance  as  can  be  found  anywhere.  The 
most  of  them  vote  the  temperance  ticket,  but  for 
some  unexplainable  reason  that  is  as  much  as 
they  have  ever  done.  They  sit  in  the  background 
and  hob  nob  with  both  sides  in  every  fight  against 
the  rumseller. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  suppose  the  money 
taken  for  license  does  make  the  town  good  for 
all  the  expense  it  is  put  to  in  keeping  the  poor 
caused  by  the  free  sale  of  liquor.  Is  that  any 
compensation  for  the  misery  and  want,  sorrow 
and  suffering,  caused  among  the  poor?  Is  that 
any  compensation  to  the  kind  and  loving  mother 
who  with  sorrow  unspeakable  sees  her  boy  come 
home  reeling  from  drink?  See  the  young  wife, 
with  her  heart  full  of  tenderness  and  love,  at  the 
midnight  hour,  praying  and  patiently  awaiting 
the  return  of  him  she  would  give  all  but  life  to 
save.  Is  it  any  compensation  to  her?  See  the 
little  children,  affrighted  and  terror-stricken  at 
a  father,  drunk.  Is  it  any  compensation  to  them  ? 
Have  I  drawn  it  too  high  ?  You,  into  whose  homes 
this  withering  curse  has  not  entered,  are  not  qual 
ified  to  speak.  Ask  those  in  whose  homes  this 
monster  has  reveled.  Ask  the  fathers  and  mothers 


License  or  No- License?  69 

and  sisters  who  have  kept  the  vigils  of  the  night — 
who  have  suffered  such  anguish  'and  sorrow  as 
no  pen  can  depict.  Have  I  drawn  it  too  high? 
Scenes  like  these  and  hundreds  of  others  equally 
as  touching  and  painful  have  taken  and  are  now 
taking  place,  not  only  in  this,  but  in  every  com 
munity.  You  who  do  not  drink  and  you  who 
do  not  often  drink,  but  vote  the  license  ticket, 
are  you  in  favor  of  continuing,  of  aggravating, 
of  multiplying  these  scenes?  You  may  be  safe, 
you  may  be  proof  against  excess  in  drinking,  but 
is  there  no  regard  for  others — no  fellow  feeling  in 
you?  Give  the  matter  a  little  thought,  a  little 
honest  meditation.  Had  you  not  better  deny 
yourselves  this  privilege,  that  your  weaker 
brother  may  not  stumble  and  fall? 

And  now  as  to  the  second  branch  of  this  claim 
for  license.  I  admit  that  liquor  is  used,  is  needed, 
if  you  please,  for  many  purposes  other  than  as 
a  beverage.  I  admit  that  there  should  be  some 
place  in  every  locality  where  it  can  be  had  for 
those  purposes  without  the  vendors  violating  the 
law.  There  are  a  great  many  who  do  not  agree 
with  me  in  this,  I  know.  It  is  the  rock  on  which 
many  have  split.  To  me  it  is  the  worst  feature 
of  the  whole  excise  law.  As  the  law  now  stands, 
no  man  can  make  a  sale  of  liquor,  no  matter  for 
what  purpose  it  is  to  be  used,  without  violating 
the  law,  unless  he  has  a  license.  But  there  is 
no  remedy  except  by  a  change  of  the  law,  and  that 
is  extremely  remote  and  doubtful.  All  there  is 


70  Letters-Essays 


for  us  to  do  is  to  accept  matters  as  they  are — to 
choose  the  lesser  of  two  evils.  Any  druggist  can 
sell  it  when  medicated  without  an  infraction  of 
the  law,  and  this  will  answer  in  most  cases.  In 
Vermont  and  other  places  where  they  have  no 
license,  town  agents  have  been  appointed  to  sell 
it  for  these  useful  purposes,  but  in  many  cases 
they  were  found  to  wretchedly  abuse  their  trust. 

Now  I  think  I  have  been  fair.  I  have  stated 
all  the  reasons  or  arguments  advanced  in  favor 
of  license  known  to  me  that  are  worth  consider 
ing,  unless  it  be  that  our  merchants  lose  some 
trade  when  there  are  no  licenses.  I  doubt  this 
very  much.  The  trade  of  most  men  who  are  con 
stantly  drinking  is  not  worth  getting.  Many  of 
these  have  a  day  of  reckoning  near  at  hand  and 
a  wise  merchant  would  not  carry  them  on  his 
books.  And  besides  there  are  temperance  men 
and  women  who  love  quiet,  sober,  orderly  streets, 
who  will  come  here  to  trade,  and  send  their  boys 
here,  when  we  have  no  license,  that  would  not 
when  we  have  a  license.  But  whether  the  loss 
in  the  one  case  is  made  up  by  the  gain  in  the  other 
is  a  question  after  all  of  but  little  moment,  when 
we  consider  the  dangers  to  society  from  open 
bar-rooms  and  saloons. 

Trade,  as  against  virtue,  upright,  sober  life  and 
living?  Trade,  as  against  the  peace  and  happi 
ness  of  the  home?  Would  you  barter  them  for 
gold?  If  you  would,  then  to  such  I  have  nothing 
to  say.  Should  we  establish  pitfalls,  places  where 


License  or  No- License  f  71 

our  young  men  may  stumble  and  fall,  places 
that  will  take  a  goodly  part  of  the  earnings  of 
the  laborer  which  his  family  so  sorely  need?  Is 
it  not  wiser  and  better  to  remove  temptation  from 
the  path  of  the  weak,  than  to  punish  them  be 
cause  they  have  stumbled  and  fallen? 

And  besides  there  is  a  large  number  of  young 
men  among  us,  gathered  in  from  the  surrounding 
country.  They  are  here  attending  school,  paying 
tribute  to  our  village.  They  have  not  the  fostering 
care  and  anxious  watchfulness  of  parents.  We  owe 
it  to  them,  to  their  parents,  to  ourselves,  that  we 
keep  no  toll  gates  which  open  on  the  bitter  and 
saddening  highway  of  intemperance.  So  long  as 
they  remain  with  us  they  are  in  one  sense  the 
wards  of  the  village.  If  the  verdict  of  this  town 
shall  be  no-license,  as  I  doubt  not  it  will  be,  by  an 
overwhelming  majority,  every  parent  whose  boy  is 
with  us  will  utter  a  silent  prayer  of  thankfulness. 
It  will  send  a  ray  of  hope  into  many  homes  that 
are  now  filled  with  gloom  and  sadness.  It  will 
cheer  and  make  glad  many  a  young  man  who  is 
unable  to  resist  the  temptation  of  an  open  saloon. 
It  will  give  us  character  and  standing  among  the 
people  around  us.  It  will  help  many  a  weak 
brother  who  would  turn  back  if  he  could.  Let  us 
help  him  all  we  can.  Let  us  put  away  the  pint  bot 
tle  and  the  bar.  They  are  of  no  earthly  use  or 
good.  We  shall  all  feel  the  better  for  it,  for  we  can 
rest  in  the  consciousness  that  we  have  done  at 
least  something  to  stay  the  terrible  evil  of  drink. 


prater  in  Mar 


W 


E  notice  that  Bishop  Whipple  has  directed  praying 
in  his  diocese  for  the  protection  of  our  soldiers  in 
the  field,  but  the  Spaniards  are  praying  busily  for 
the  protection  of  their  soldiers.  In  every  war  be 
tween  two  Christian  nations  these  conflicting 
prayers  have  been  a  scandal,  ever  since  the  foundation  of 
Christianity,  and  we  hoped  they  had  ceased.  They  are 
founded  on  the  theory  that  the  Creator  takes  a  certain 
pleasure  in  watching  fights,  and  that  He  gives  the  victory  to 
the  pluckiest  and  best  drilled.  It  would  be  better  for  re 
ligion  to  have  this  view  of  the  Creator's  tastes  drop  out  of 
sight.  To  the  question  why  God  permits  war  if  He  does 
not  like  it  and  does  not  take  sides  in  it,  we  must  answer  by 
asking  why  He  permits  robbery,  murder  and  lynching  and 
lying?  As  we  know  we  shall  not  get  any  authoritative 
answer  to  these  questions,  had  we  not  better  leave  the  sub 
ject  alone?" — The  Nation. 

The  Nation  is  considered  by  many  as  being  the 
purest,  most  wholesome  and  most  scholarly  of  all 
political  periodicals.  The  position  taken  in  the 
above  extract  is  for  this  reason  on  first  reading 
a  little  startling  if  not  surprising.  And  yet  the 
more  we  reflect  the  less  are  we  inclined  to  dis 
sent  or  complain.  The  questions  there  presented 
have  not  only  troubled  but  baffled  the  wise  and 
learned  of  all  ages  and  climes.  Today  with  all 
the  learning  and  wisdom  of  the  past,  in  addition 
to  our  own  to  aid  us,  we  are  no  nearer  a  solution 
of  them  than  we  were  two  thousand  years  ago. 
There  are  many  mysteries  in  this  world  which 


Prayer  in  War  73 


the  ken  of  man  can  not  pierce  and  which  probably 
it  is  best  that  he  should  not. 

Whether  the  Creator  countenances  wars  or 
takes  part  in  them  we  are  unable  to  divine,  even 
from  a  study  of  the  millions  of  struggles  and  wars 
through  which  man  has  come.  If  battles  and  wars 
were  always  won  by  the  forces  which,  as  viewed 
by  man  even,  are  confessedly  in  the  right,  then 
we  might  reasonably  conclude  that  He  does  take 
part.  We  cannot  tolerate  the  thought  or  even 
entertain  it  that  He  would  take  sides  with  the 
army  in  the  wrong.  The  trouble  is  we  may  not, 
do  not,  know  with  our  weak  vision  the  ultimate 
ends  and  purposes  to  be  accomplished.  Therefore 
it  may  be  better  in  the  end  that  victory  should 
now  and  then  go  with  the  forces  which  finite  man 
regards  as  in  the  wrong.  We  have  no  other 
answer  to  make  to  the  many  battles  and  wars 
which  have  been  won  by  the  cruel  and  tryannous. 
Terrible  and  awful  as  wars  are,  hardly  less  cruel 
and  wanton  than  the  struggle  of  beasts,  yet  there 
are  many  who  maintain  that  they  are  the  means, 
the  crucible  by  which  the  Creator  will  reach  ulti 
mately  a  perfect  and  noble  manhood.  Else  they 
argue  and  with  much  reason  why  has  he  been  re 
quired  to  come  through  such  ages  of  struggle 
and  blood. 

Man  is  certainly  growing  better  and  wars 
fewer.  If  this  be  true,  and  it  is  confessedly  so, 
then  if  this  progress  be  not  due  to  wars  it  has 
been  attained  in  spite  of  them.  There  are  others 


74  Letters-Essays 


who  maintain  that  man  is  a  free  moral  agent,  and 
that  we  are  left  to  work  out  our  own  destiny; 
that  the  Creator  takes  no  part  in  our  controvers 
ies  or  wars.  Which  is  the  true  theory  will  prob 
ably  never  be  known.  True,  it  must  be  that  if 
He  so  wished  or  willed  there  would  be  no  wars. 
That  we  have  wars  is  some  proof  that  He  does 
not  act  to  prevent  them,  though  it  is  no  proof 
that  He  does  not  take  sides.  There  are  others 
who  maintain  that  it  is  the  office  of  humane  and 
intelligent  people  to  kill  off  and  destroy  cruel  and 
barbarous  people  and  they  argue  that  this  must 
be  right  since  we  have  always  been  doing  it.  In 
telligence  is  superior  to  brute  force,  they  say,  and 
a  much  better  factor  in  the  civilization  and  pro 
gress  of  the  human  race.  Cruel  though  it  be,  they 
maintain  its  ultimate  end  is  good.  Thus  in  this 
field  of  doubt  and  darkness  we  grope  and  must 
continue  to  do  so. 

The  soul  of  the  great  and  big-hearted  Lincoln 
was  cast  down  by  these  same  questions  and  as 
much  so  as  are  we.  With  all  his  wisdom  he  could 
no  more  solve  them  than  we.  In  his  second  inau 
gural,  speaking  of  the  great  armies  struggling 
each  to  destroy  the  other,  he  uttered  these  mem 
orable  words: 

"  Both  read  the  same  Bible  and  pray  to  the 
same  God;  and  each  invokes  His  aid  against  the 
other.  It  may  seem  strange  that  any  men  should 
dare  to  ask  a  just  God's  assistance  in  wringing 
their  bread  from  the  sweat  of  other  men's  faces; 
but  let  us  judge  not,  that  we  be  not  judged.  The 


Prayer  in  War  75 


prayers  of  both  could  not  be  answered;  that  of 
neither  has  been  answered  fully." 

The  prayer  of  the  North  had  not  then  been 
answered,  but  was  it  not  soon  after? 

After  all,  we  see  no  harm  or  wrong  in  prayer 
for  success  in  war.  Though  both  may  intensely 
believe  they  are  in  the  right,  neither  knows  that 
he  is  because  neither  knows  or  can  know  the 
Creator's  ultimate  ends  and  purposes.  As  it  is 
right  to  act  up  to  ones  highest  convictions,  then 
surely  as  there  must  be  much  solace  and  comfort 
in  prayer  for  the  success  of  our  friends  even  in 
war,  why  say  aught  against  it?  Men  will  pray 
for  their  side  to  win.  It  is  the  cry  of  the  soul  due 
to  the  fear  of  consequences  should  the  enemy 
win. 


1benr\>  <Surle\>  Broofcs 


HIS  bright,  clever  and  once  promising 
young  man  has  been  called  hence  in  the 
spring  time  of  early  manhood.  It  seems, 
and  it  is  sad,  that  one  so  well  gifted  and 
equipped  for  all  the  struggles  and  duties  of  life 
should  be  stricken  down  ere  the  stream  is  half 
crossed.  But  it  was  so  willed  and  we  must  not 
complain.  We  cannot  even  say  that  it  was  not 
for  the  best.  He  died  on  Friday  evening  last  at 
the  residence  of  his  father,  Erasmus  D.  Brooks, 
after  a  long  and  lingering  illness.  He  was  born 
at  Parishville,  January  23,  1853,  and  came  to 
this  village  with  his  father  in  the  spring  of  1858, 
where  he  has  since  resided,  except  during  short 
periods  when  away  at  school. 

He  died  October  2,  1891.  In  early  boyhood  he 
was  called  Gurley  by  his  chums  and  companions, 
and  this  name  clung  to  him  through  life.  He  was 
hardly  known  by  any  other  name.  He  was  a 
bright,  active  boy  and  full  of  fun  and  sport, 
though  not  rash  or  wild  or  vicious.  He  liked  sport 
for  sport's  sake — for  the  amusement  that  it  gave. 
As  a  boy  he  was  courteous  and  gentlemanly  and 
these  traits  were  characteristic  of  him  through 


HENRY   GURLBY    BROOKS 


Henry  Gurley  Brooks  77 

life.  He  possessed  a  bright,  strong  mind  and  was, 
as  a  boy,  a  scholar  of  much  promise;  but  he  had 
so  much  fun  in  him  that  it  seemed  impossible  for 
him  to  apply  himself  to  his  studies.  He  would 
master  his  lessons  by  reading  them  over  on  his 
way  to  school  or  by  getting  some  classmate  to 
explain  them  to  him  in  the  hall  before  entering 
the  class-room.  In  this  cursory  and  hasty  way 
he  could  usually  get  at  all  the  points  in  a  lesson. 
He  always  stood  well  in  his  classes  and  generally 
at  the  head.  His  mind  was  so  bright  and  his 
perceptions  so  clear  that  he  grasped  and  mas 
tered  problems  and  lessons  almost  at  a  glance — 
by  intuition.  He  had  a  bright,  intellectual  face 
which  was  always  radiant  with  mirth  and  kindli 
ness.  There  was  never  a  party  or  gathering  to 
which  he  was  not  welcome.  He  brought  mirth, 
pleasantry  and  good  cheer,  never  enmity,  ill-feel 
ing  or  trouble.  He  could  not  be  mean  or  peevish 
or  ugly  if  he  tried. 

He  stood  about  five  feet  eight,  well  and  com 
pactly  built,  fine  of  figure,  handsome  of  face,  and 
the  beaux  ideal  of  the  ladies.  In  sports  he  was 
a  champion.  No  one  he  ever  met  could  excel  him 
in  throwing  ball. 

In  all  the  various  business  affairs  of  men  he 
was  scrupulously  upright  and  honorable.  He  de 
tested  deceit,  trickery,  cunning  and  fraud.  By  no 
possible  means  could  he  be  induced  in  a  business 
deal  to  resort  to  deceit  or  trickery,  and  he  hated 
those  who  did.  His  word  was  as  good  as  his 


78  Letters-Essays 


bond,  and  his  honesty  never  came  in  question. 
He  had  his  weaknesses,  but  they  did  not  touch 
or  taint  his  manliness,  his  integrity  or  his  hon 
esty.  These  were  cardinal  principles  with  him. 

He  was  blessed,  too,  with  a  most  magnificent 
physique,  both  in  form  and  in  powers  of  endur 
ance.  His  muscles  were  of  steel.  For  several 
years  past  he  has  been  associated  with  his  father 
in  the  dry  goods  business.  As  a  merchant  he 
was  always  pleasant,  genial  and  agreeable  and 
made  for  himself  a  large  circle  of  warm  and  true 
friends. 

For  some  three  or  four  years  his  health  has 
been  gradually  failing  him.  However,  he  did  not 
give  up  his  duties  at  the  store  until  last  winter. 
Last  summer  he  went  up  to  Gale's,  thinking  the 
change  and  the  atmosphere  of  the  woods  would 
do  him  good,  but  it  did  not  seem  to.  Then  he 
went  to  New  York  City  to  consult  an  eminent 
physician,  where  he  remained  a  few  weeks.  On 
his  return  in  August  he  felt  a  little  stronger,  but 
he  soon  began  to  fail.  His  disease  was  consump 
tion,  though  he  was  not  aware  of  that  fact  until 
a  few  days  before  he  died.  He  did  not  believe 
this  was  his  trouble.  He  felt  and  was  sanguine 
through  all  his  illness,  except  during  the  last 
few  days,  that  he  would  finally  get  well.  He  had 
great  fortitude  and  courage.  But  few  men  could 
have  borne  up  so  heroically  as  did  he.  He  was  a 
warm-hearted,  kind,  generous  young  man.  He 
had  no  piques  or  jealousies  and  no  enemies.  All 


Henry  Gurley  Brooks  79 

who  knew  him  were  his  friends.  He  will  be 
missed  by  a  large  circle.  He  leaves  a  widow, 
Cynthia  Brooks,  daughter  of  George  Everett,  to 
whom  he  was  recently  married.  In  his  death  Mr. 
Brooks  loses  the  last  of  his  five  sons,  leaving  of 
his  family  only  his  devoted  daughter,  Mrs.  Abbie 
S.  Landers. 


Shooting  2>oes 


BRIEF  article  recently  went  the  rounds 
of  the  press,  stating  that  a  game  "  pro 
tector,"  one  or  more,  had  actually  cap 
tured  parties  killing  deer  ' '  -out  -of  sea 
son."  It  attracted  my  attention,  but  not  in  the 
same  way  or  for  the  same  reasons  that  it  did  a 
recent  writer  in  the  press.  To  me  it  was  a  matter 
of  surprise  and  even  astonishment  that  a  deer 
slayer  had  been  apprehended  at  all.  I  can  hardly 
comprehend  it  yet.  I  have  known  for  some  years 
that  there  were  men  called  "  game  protectors," 
selected,  of  course,  for  their  kind  heartedness, 
love  of  fair  play  for  the  poor  deer  in  their  wilds, 
and  because  of  such  sympathy  and  love  for  them, 
creeping  and  flitting  with  open  ears  and  eager 
eyes  along  and  in  the  edge  of  the  great  forest  and 
from  camp  to  camp  on  the  streams  and  ponds, 
but  it  is  so  long  since  I  have  heard  of  their  cap 
turing  anyone  or  anything  that  I  had  begun  to 
lose  faith  in  their  sleuth  qualities  or  sympathy  for 
the  deer.  Accordingly,  this  recent  arrest  is  proof 
that  they  are  still  alive  and  on  guard  protecting 
the  mother  deer  worn  and  poor  because  of  her 
cares,  who  hides  her  young  a  little  way  back  from 


Shooting  Does  81 


the  stream  or  pond  while  she  creeps  quietly  and 
noiselessly  to  the  water's  edge  for  a  drink  and 
a  meal  of  juicy  lily  pads,  trusting  she  can  avoid 
or  will  not  meet  a  Christian  gentleman,  sitting 
wearily  in  his  boat  through  the  starless  night  to 
do  her  to  death.  Think  of  a  man  who  will  leave 
his  home  and  a  comfortable  bed  and  drive  miles 
to  sit  for  hours  in  the  mists  and  fog  of  the  water, 
hidden  by  the  rushes  or  alders  and  the  darkness 
of  the  night,  and  in  defiance  of  law,  both  moral 
and  statutory,  to  kill  deer  in  the  summer  months 
when,  poor  from  the  trials  and  hardships  of  the 
previous  winter,  motherhood  and  the  flies  that 
pester  them  terribly  and  to  escape  which  under 
the  cover  of  darkness  they  steal  to  the  water  for 
relief  and  a  drink.  Is  it  not  shameful?  They 
should  be  run  down,  prosecuted  and  thrown  into 
jail.  Ever  since  I  can  remember  it  has  been  com 
mon  talk  that  it  is  done  every  year,  but  I  thank 
heaven  that  this  butchery  seems  to  be  growing 
less,  not  through  punishment  of  the  offenders,  but 
through  and  by  reason  of  a  higher  and  increasing 
moral  sense  in  man. 

Only  last  season,  I  think  it  was,  Carrol  Vance, 
whose  credibility  cannot  be  questioned,  camped 
on  the  Bog,  and  in  his  rambles  along  its  shores 
came  upon  the  bodies  of  six  deer  that  had  been 
shot  which  the  hunters  did  not  find.  How  many 
did  they  shoot  that  they  did  get?  How  many 
did  they  shoot  that  got  too  far  back  in  the  woods 
to  die  to  be  found?  How  many  were  seriously  in- 


82  Letters-Essays 


jured  and  maimed?  Good  hunters  tell  me  that 
in  their  judgment  not  one-half  the  deer  that  are 
fatally  shot  are  secured.  Why  do  men,  good 
men  in  every  field  and  walk  of  life,  take  such 
supreme  and  uncontrollable  delight  in  killing 
deer  when  they  are  nursing  their  young,  fighting 
flies  and  poor  in  flesh,  or,  for  that  matter,  at  any 
time?  During  the  early  season  the  deer  can  fur 
nish  but  little  meat  and  that  of  a  very  poor  qual 
ity.  So,  it  is  not  >a  question  of  food  at  that  time 
of  the  year,  nor  is  it  at  any  time,  except  possibly 
now  and  then  a  case  with  a  lazy  backwoodsman. 
No,  there  are  but  few  cases  where  the  need  or 
necessity  for  meat  enters  into  the  question  at  all. 
There  seems  to  be  and  there  is  an  innate,  inborn 
pleasure  in  the  most  of  men  to  lay  for,  chase,  hunt 
out  and  shoot  down  wild  animals.  Ages  ago  our 
forefathers,  according  to  modern  research,  had  to 
fight  their  way,  both  for  food  and  existence, 
among  and  with  the  animals  about  them.  It  was 
then  largely  a  question  of  which  should  die  that 
the  other  might  live.  It  was  a  strange  carnival 
into  which  to  place  a  man  with  a  soul,  but  mod 
ern  scientific  research  and  the  ablest  students  of 
today  tell  us  with  no  hesitancy  that  such  was 
the  case. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  and  feel  that  man  first 
came  from  the  hand  of  the  Creator  free  of  this 
propensity  to  kill,  and  that  it  became  engrafted 
into  his  being  through  and  by  the  untold  and 
unknown  centuries  of  a  barbarous  and  semi-bar- 


Shooting  Does  83 


barons  life  up  through  which  he  climbed,  at  least 
in  the  civilized  parts  of  the  world,  to  the  full 
stature  of  man,  and  we  may,  I  think,  with  equal 
right  >and  reason,  so  believe  and  feel.  Be  that  as 
it  may,  it  seems  to  be  very  strong  yet  in  the  most 
of  us.  The  boy  of  six  or  eight  cries  for  a  toy  pis 
tol  or  bow  and  arrow,  a  little  later  for  an  air  gun, 
and,  finding  that  is  not  quite  sure  and  deadly 
enough,  pleads  and  cries  for  a  man's  gun  with 
powder,  shot  or  ball  that  he  may  not  miss  and 
be  more  successful  in  killing.  These  boys  begin 
on  the  birds  singing  in  the  door  yard,  adding 
cheer  and  spirit  to  life,  then  on  the  chirping 
squirrels  and  other  game,  ending  up  with  a  cordu 
roy  suit,  belt  and  cartridges  with  a  most  deadly 
modern  gun,  and,  thus  equipped  and  fortified, 
sally  forth  upon  the  deer  in  their  forest  home. 
Many  gentle  fathers  and  mothers  in  this  village 
are  now  to  my  knowledge  having  a  severe  strug 
gle  with  their  young  sons,  who  are  teasing  and 
pleading  for  a  gun  with  which  to  kill.  Some  of 
them,  but  not  all,  I  regret  to  say,  will,  when 
grown  up,  regret  this  propensity  of  their  youth. 
I  know  this,  for  it  is  my  own  experience. 

Some  recent  writers  maintain  that  much  of 
our  nursery  rhymes  and  reading  are  both  baneful 
and  bad  and  that  they  inculcate  these  morbid 
desires  to  shoot  and  kill  in  our  youth  which  may 
be  and  are  no  doubt  true  in  a  measure.  All 
rhymes  and  stories  having  such  a  tendency 
should  certainly  be  eliminated  from  the  books  of 


84  Letters-Essays 


our  youth.  Let  us  think  that  much  of  the  bar 
barity  which  afflicts  us  comes  to  us  from  our 
reading  since  that,  in  time,  can  be  remedied. 

The  stories  which  I  have  heard  of  the  fearfully 
maiming  and  wounding  of  deer  and  of  the  long 
chase  after  them  in  their  decrepit  condition,  are 
too  horrible  to  relate  and  could  not  be  told,  would 
not  be  permitted  to  be  recited  in  the  hearing  of 
gentle  women,  as  I  know  from  experience.  There 
are  some,  however,  I  must  admit,  that  it  would 
not  disturb,  but  they  are  few  as  compared  with 
men. 

The  deer  is  one  of  the  trimmest,  fleetest,  most 
graceful  in  form  and  action  of  the  animal  crea 
tion.  Their  great,  warm,  kindly  eyes  bespeak 
friendliness  and  friendship  and  how  any  one,  not 
actually  needing  food,  can  look  into  those  eyes 
and  fill  that  face  with  buck  shot,  be  it  a  mother 
doe  or  a  dry  doe  or  even  a  buck,  is  beyond  my 
comprehension.  They  live  in  the  forest  where 
God  or  nature  placed  them,  feed  and  live  on  the 
food  there  afforded,  care  for  themselves  without 
the  aid  or  assistance  of  man,  taxes,  constables  or 
a  standing  army  which  men  require,  and,  it  seems 
to  me,  should  not  be  chased  and  hounded  by  man, 
or  by  man  and  his  dog.  Let  the  wolf  and  cata 
mount  do  it,  for  it  is  their  nature  and  their  only 
way  of  living,  but  not  man,  except  possibly  he  be 
hungry  and  need  food.  For  him  to  do  it  for  sport, 
pleasure  or  'achievement  seems  to  me  to  be  cruel 
and  wrong. 


HON.    WILLIAM   A.    DAKT 


Ibon.  William  E.  Dart 


ILLIAM  A.  DAKT  was  a  son  of  Simeon 
Dart,  who  settled  at  Smith's  Corners, 
now  known  as  West  Potsdam,  in  1808. 
He  was  the  youngest  of  six  children  and 
was  born  October  8, 1814.  He  died  March  8, 1891, 
at  his  home  in  the  village  of  Potsdam.  His  en 
tire  life  was  spent  in  the  town  in  which  he  was 
born.  His  boyhood  life  was  spent  on  his  father's 
farm,  where  he  attended  the  district  school  and 
St.  Lawrence  Academy  in  Potsdam,  teaching 
school  in  the  winter  to  help  him  at  the  Academy. 
In  the  spring  of  1834  he  entered  the  law  office 
of  Hon.  John  L.  Russell  at  Canton.  In  the  suc 
ceeding  spring  he  became  a  student  in  the  office 
of  the  Hon.  Horace  Allen  at  Potsdam,  where  he 
continued  until  May,  1840,  when  he  was  admitted 
to  the  bar  and  opened  an  office  in  Potsdam. 

In  September,  1841,  he  married  Harriet  L., 
daughter  of  Judge  Allen,  and  succeeded  to  his 
business.  In  the  spring  of  1845  he  was  appointed 
postmaster  at  Potsdam,  and  district  attorney  of 
the  county.  In  the  fall  of  1849  he  was  elected  to 
the  state  senate  and  served  during  the  years  of 
1850-51.  In  1853  the  law  partnership  of  Dart, 


86  Letters-Essays 


Dewey  &  Tappan  was  formed,  which  continued 
until  August,  1856,  when  Mr.  Dewey  withdrew. 
The  firm  of  Dart  &  Tappan  continued  until  1869. 

In  his  early  life,  and  until  the  formation  of 
the  Republican  party,  he  was  a  Democrat.  In 
April,  1861,  he  received  from  President  Lincoln 
the  appointment  of  United  States  district  at 
torney  for  the  northern  district  of  New  York, 
which  comprised  the  greater  part  of  the  State. 
In  April,  1865,  he  was  reappointed  District  At 
torney,  and  in  1866  removed  from  office  by  Presi 
dent  Johnson,  mainly  for  the  reason  that  he  re 
fused  to  follow  Mr.  Johnson  into  the  Democratic 
party. 

In  April,  1869,  he  was  appointed  Consul-Gen- 
eral  to  Canada,  by  President  'Grant,  which  office 
he  held  until  March,  1878.  On  the  expiration  of 
his  term  he  resumed  the  practice  of  law  with 
his  son-in-law,  George  Z.  Erwin,  under  the  name 
of  Dart  &  Erwin,  which  continued  until  within 
a  few  weeks  of  his  death,  when  Mr.  Erwin  with 
drew  and  Mr.  Edward  A.  Everett  took  his  place, 
under  the  name  of  Dart  and  Everett. 

He  was  vestryman  in  Trinity  Church  in  1844, 
and  held  that  office  from  1879  until  his  death. 

Mr.  Dart  was  about  five  feet  six  inches  in 
height,  quite  stockily  built,  vigorous  in  health, 
and  weighed  well  for  his  height,  probably  about 
one  hundred  and  ninety  pounds.  The  writer  met 
him  and  knew  him  from  1871  till  his  death. 
During  all  that  time  he  was  the  very  picture  of 


Hon.  William  A.  Dart  87 

health,  with  a  full,  round,  ruddy  face,  fine  com 
plexion,  no  beard  and  white  hair.  He  was  a 
bright,  able  man,  -and  this  no  one  could  question 
who  conversed  with  him,  or  even  passed  him  on 
the  street.  As  a  conversationalist,  no  one  ex 
celled  him  among  his  contemporaries,  and  I  very 
much  question  if  any  one  equalled  him.  He  was 
ever  bright,  quick  at  repartee,  sparkling  in  wit, 
filling  his  talk  with  pat  stories  and  apt  illustra 
tions.  Nothing  in  life  seemed  to  please  him 
more  than  to  visit  and  chat  on  any  and  all  sub 
jects,  and  to  tell  stories,  whether  in  his  office,  on 
the  street  or  at  his  home.  In  these  respects  he 
was  very  much  like  Lincoln,  when  an  attorney 
in  Springfield,  and  this  thought  often  came  to 
me  on  seeing  him  in  the  street,  delighting  those 
about  him  with  his  wit,  bright  remarks  and 
stories.  These,  he  would,  like  Lincoln,  accom 
pany  with  a  great  burst  of  laughter,  usually  if 
standing,  putting  his  hands  on  his  knees,  shaking 
his  whole  body  in  his  intensity  of  good  feeling, 
which  naturally  similarly  enthused  all  his  listen 
ers. 

He  was,  in  every  way,  an  exceedingly  social 
man,  both  with  men  and  women  as  well.  His 
delight  in  conversation  was  the  product  of  his 
great  social  qualities.  When  everything  was  se 
rene  and  going  his  way  I  think  he  was  the  most 
genial,  happy  and  companionble  man  I  have 
known.  If  others  were  thwarting  his  purposes 
or  his  moves,  or  men  he  did  not  like  were  seeking 


88  Letters-Essays 


positions,  then  he  would  become  greatly  wrought 
up,  walking  the  floor  with  both  hands  clenched 
hard,  both  arms  pumping  vigorously,  jaws  firmly 
set,  sarcastically  and  eloquently  pouring  out  a 
Philippic  upon  his  presumed,  or  assumed,  op 
ponents  or  adversaries. 

In  these  outbursts  he  was  often  more  caustic 
and  brilliant  than  in  conversation.  Whenever  he 
wished  to  be  emphatic,  this  was  his  characteris 
tic  way  of  expressing  it,  and  people  agreeing  with 
him  were  greatly  interested  in  his  sparkling  wit 
and  humor  and  brilliant  attack. 

Nature  gave  to  him  a  natural  legal  mind,  one 
of  the  quickest  to  act,  keenest  to  see  and  ablest 
to  comprehend  on  a  simple  presentation  of  a  case. 
He  was  not,  however,  so  far  as  I  ever  observed, 
a  hard  or  laborious  student  of  the  law,  due,  as  I 
think,  to  two  reasons,  first,  his  consciousness  that 
he  could  grasp  the  case  without  labor,  and,  sec 
ond,  to  his  great  social  qualities.  With  his  fine 
natural  gifts  for  the  law,  had  he  been  a  great 
student,  hard  worker  in  the  books,  and  had  he 
studiously  stuck  to  the  law,  he  certainly  would 
have  attained  high  eminence  at  the  bar  and  in 
the  courts,  not  only  in  the  county,  but  in  the 
State.  As  it  was,  when  in  his  prime  and  full 
practice,  he  took  and  held,  as  I  am  informed, 
equal  rank  with  the  ablest  lawyers  of  the  county. 
In  public  speaking  he  excelled,  as  he  did  in  con 
versation,  since  he  was  as  much  at  ease  on  a  plat 
form  as  in  a  private  room,  and  therefore  could 


Hon.  William  A.  Dart  89 

give  free  play  to  all  the  qualities  of  Ms  brilliant 
mind.  I  have  often  heard  it  said  that  he  was 
one  of  the  brightest  and  ablest,  if  not  the  bright 
est  and  ablest,  impromptu  speaker  among  all  his 
contemporaries.  He  did  a  great  deal  of  political 
speech-making  and  was  considered  one  of  the 
best  speakers  in  this  section.  He  spoke  extem 
poraneously,  and  so  was  free  to  turn  his  re 
marks  to  suit  and  please  his  audience.  He  was 
naturally  a  free  trader,  or  at  least,  one  favoring 
a  tariff  for  revenue  only.  After  returning  from 
the  Consulate  at  Ottawa,  he  advocated  this  doc 
trine  quite  persistently  in  conversation,  to  the 
discomfiture  of  his  son-in-law,  the  Hon.  G-eorge 
Z.  Erwin.  So  imbued  did  he  become  that  he 
went  to  West  Potsdam,  where  he  was  born,  and 
delivered  a  prepared  and  able  speech,  which  was 
printed  and  copied  by  many  papers  leaning  that 
way  throughout  the  country.  It  was  considered 
a  masterly  speech  on  that  side  of  the  question, 
and  probably  as  able  as  any  he  ever  made. 

He  was  particularly  well-informed  and  well- 
read  on  all  questions  of  a  political  nature  or  bear 
ing  upon  the  history  of  parties,  the  principles 
espoused  by  each,  and  of  the  leading  men  of  the 
State,  with  many  of  whom  he  had  a  familiar 
acquaintance. 

He  was  a  genial,  able  and  companionable  man, 
and  his  bright,  happy  face  and  memory  will  linger 
till  all  who  knew  him  have  gone.  Some  of  the 
trite  remarks,  pat  stories,  sparkling  wit  and  hu- 


90  Letters-Essays 


mor  uttered  by  him  are  still  often  repeated  by 
those  who  heard  them. 

In  the  evening  of  March  9,  1891,  he  and  his 
daughter,  Harriet,  called  upon  a  neighbor.  The 
visit  being  over,  he  complained  of  being  ill,  but 
declined  assistance  to  his  home,  saying  the  walk 
and  open  air  would  do  him  good.  Very  soon 
after  entering  his  home  he  sank  suddenly  to  the 
floor  and  soon  expired.  His  last  effort  was  to 
gratify  his  great  social  qualities.  And  so  passed 
away  the  bright  and  genial  Mr.  Dart.  Two 
daughters,  Mrs.  George  Z.  Erwin  and  Miss  Har 
riet  Dart,  survive  him. 


Hcbing  for  War 


OB  some  time  past  a  war  spirit  has  been 
quite  manifest  in  nearly  all  the  great 
governments  of  the  earth,  as  also  in  some 
of  the  smaller  ones.  In  fact,  they  are  al 
ready  fighting  in  Abbyssinia,  South  America  and 
Cuba.  Why  is  it?  There  is  a  cause  or,  more 
properly  speaking,  a  motive  for  every  human 
action.  We  cannot  act,  if  we  would,  without  mo 
tive.  Is  it  because  of  the  distressing  condition 
of  the  poor,  toiling  millions,  everywhere  finding 
their  lot  and  their  environment  growing  harder 
and  more  awful  to  bear?  Is  it  due  to  the  savage 
instincts  of  man 's  nature  ?  Is  it  due  to  the  rulers 
of  government,  looking  to  war  as  a  relief,  as  a 
vent  to  the  restless  and  turbulent  spirit  of  their 
subjects?  Do  the  rulers  feel  that  there  is  greater 
safety  and  security  to  themselves  in  the  waste, 
devastation  and  murder  of  war,  and  the  conse 
quent  debilitation,  poverty  and  distress  that  must 
follow?  Is  it  due  to  wealth,  with  idle  factories 
wanting  contracts  of  millions  to  make  guns,  to 
build  war  ships,  to  build  forts  and  arsenals,  to 
make  clothing,  furnish  supplies,  etc.  ?  Is  it  due  to 
great  capitalists  who  see  millions  in  the  barter 


92  Letters-Essays 


and  exchange  of  securities  consequent  upon  war! 
If  these  or  some  of  these  be  not  the  reasons  for 
this  war  fever  what,  then,  is  the  reason?  There 
are  those  who  maintain  that  every  considerable 
government  should  have  a  good,  smart  war  at 
least  every  thirty  years,  as  a  soothing,  softening 
influence  upon  the  independent  spirit  of  man. 
History  tells  us  of  more  than  one  war  brought  on 
for  no  other  purpose  than  this.  What  a  libel  on 
the  God-given  nature  of  man  is  such  a  doctrine 
as  that!  Is  man,  here  at  the  close  of  the  nine 
teenth  century,  but  a  varnished  barbarian? 
Only  recently  we  noticed  a  sentence  in  an  edi 
torial  in  the  Watertmvn  Times  about  like  this, 

"After  all,  our  boasted  civilization  is  but  a  thin  veneer. 
Scratch  the  average  man  of  today  but  lightly  and  you 
reach  a  barbarian." 

These  are  not  the  exact  words,  but  the  sub 
stance  as  near  as  I  can  remember.  The  thought 
there  expressed  has  been  ringing  in  my  ears  ever 
since,  and  I  fear  will  continue  to  do  so  till  the  end. 
The  idea  was  new  to  me,  or,  at  least,  put  in  a  new 
and  forcible  way.  Can  it  be  true?  I  had  thought 
that  man  inherently  possessed  attributes  of  a  di 
vine  nature,  elements  which  lifted  and  placed 
him  on  a  plane  above  animal  savagery,  above  the 
barbarian.  I  was  so  taught  in  my  childhood  and 
I  hope  I  may  continue  to  so  feel  and  think,  that 
my  faith  shall  not  be  entirely  shaken  by  the  med 
itation  which  the  statement  of  The  Times  has 
awakened.  But,  when  I  read,  as  I  did  only  a  few 


Aching  for  War  93 

days  since,  that  the  United  States  Senate,  once 
the  ablest  body  of  men  ever  gathered  together  in 
council  in  all  history,  actually  cheered  a  message 
from  the  President  which  indicated  war,  I  con 
fess  I  began  to  think  we  are  barbarians  varnished 
over,  and  thinly  at  that.  When  eighty-eight  men, 
the  select  and  elect  of  sixty  millions  of  as  enlight 
ened  and  high-minded  men  as  there  are  in  all 
the  world,  cheer  a  prospect  of  war,  knowing  full 
well  the  influence  of  such  an  act,  what  are  we  to 
think  of  our  boasted  civilization  or  of  man's  in 
herent  nature? 

Soon  after  this  scene  in  the  Senate  I  read  of 
a  large  council  of  ministers  of  the  Gospel  bring 
ing  the  matter  of  that  message  up,  and  being  so 
evenly  divided  that  they  could  not  take  action 
upon  it.  Just  think  of  it!  A  minister,  a  teacher 
of  the  precepts  of  Christ,  supporting  or  counten 
ancing  any  move  that  might  bring  on  or  culmi 
nate  in  war.  Such  an  act  is  equally  as  surpris 
ing,  and  more  painful,  than  that  of  which  we  have 
before  spoken  and  makes  our  query  more  diffi 
cult  of  solution.  The  mission  of  Christ  on  earth 
was  peace,  good  will,  one  toward  another.  And 
history  tells  us  that  ministers  and  religious  peo 
ple  have  been  in  all  wars  as  fierce  and  as  relent 
less  as  others.  How  they  can  be  thus  holding  the 
beliefs  they  do  passes  my  comprehension.  Every 
minister,  of  whatever  creed  and  wherever  placed, 
should  be,  as  I  believe,  an  apostle  of  peace.  If 
he  be  not  can  he  be  a  true  disciple  of  Him  who 


94  Letters-Essays 


said:  "  Love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  Do  unto 
others  as  ye  would  they  should  do  unto  you. ' ' 

The  common  people,  or  as  Lincoln  would  say, 
the  plain  people,  upon  whom  the  burdens,  distress 
and  horrors  of  war  principally  fall,  awakening  in 
their  might,  to  their  honor  be  it  said,  are  against 
war  and  have  put  a  quietus  on  the  war  fever 
which  followed  the  President's  message.  And 
perhaps  we  should  be  restricted  in  our  inquiry  as 
to  whether  man  is  a  barbarian  veneered,  or  as 
to  the  thickness  of  that  veneer,  by  the  voice  and 
acts  of  the  great  army  of  plain  people.  They  liave 
no  motive  to  influence  their  judgment  other  than 
the  good  of  all,  no  fat  contracts  to  get  ~by  war, 
no  fame  to  make,  no  honors  to  acquire,  except 
that  of  brave  soldiers  dead  or  living. 

The  Venezuelan  question  has  no  more  than 
quieted  down  than  Senators  of  the  United  States 
stand  up  in  that  historic  hall  and  make  speeches 
breathing  war  with  Spain,  on  account  <of  Cuba. 
Germany  seems  quite  ready  to  go  to  war  over 
a  trifling  matter,  in  far  off  Africa.  Russia  wears 
her  iron  collar,  and  is  ready  to  crush  any  power 
that  thwarts  her  will.  Turkey,  or  her  subjects, 
have  been  and  are  butchering  the  poor,  defence 
less  Armenians  because  they  are  Christians,  and 
doing  it  in  so  brutal  and  savage  a  way  as  to 
shock  the  world.  The  great  Christian  govern 
ments  of  the  earth  stand  aghast  and  are  ap 
palled,  it  is  true,  but  not  one  lifts  its  hand  to  stay 
the  barbarous  work.  England,  that  mighty  em- 


Aching  for  War  95 


pire,  mistress  of  the  seas,  says  she  can  do  nothing, 
that  Armenia  is  too  far  away.  She  could  do 
something,  <and  would,  were  any  trespasses  com 
mitted  upon  her  property  rights  in  near-by  Egypt 
or  even  in  India,  still  farther  off.  I  do  not  say 
she  should.  I  deprecate  war.  But  I  do  say  she 
would,  were  her  property  rights  invaded,  even  in 
the  least.  Is  this  not  some  proof  that  all  wars 
are  based  on  greed,  selfishness  or  rapacity? 

It  does  not  help  us  in  the  least,  as  we  can  see, 
in  our  query,  that  for  several  centuries  after 
Christ  there  was  little  or  no  civilization,  that 
there  was  a  long  period  of  appalling  darkness, 
black  with  war,  butchery  and  savagery.  Brutal 
and  black  as  it  was,  it  was  not  more  brutal,  cruel 
and  inhuman  than  that  now  going  on  in  Arme 
nia.  Poor  Armenia!  Her  doom  has  come,  her 
fate  is  sealed.  The  Christians  of  that  province 
are  to  disappear  by  butchery,  and  that,  too,  at 
the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century! 

There  are  those  that  tell  us  that,  by  some  in 
scrutable  necessity  or  requirement,  man  could 
not  and  cannot  reach  his  full  stature  except  by 
the  uses,  the  pillage  and  murder  of  war,  and  for 
proof  of  this  they  point  to  his  record  for  past 
centuries — and  to  his  gradual  growth  and  devel 
opment  amidst  war.  Man's  record  through  all 
the  ages  has  been  black  with  war,  it  is  true.  It 
is  equally  true  that  man  has  been  developing, 
growing  wiser  and  better  at  least,  in  some  coun 
tries. 


96  Letters-Essays 


Is  man  of  today,  then,  a  barbarian  with  a 
veneer  ?  If  we  accept  the  doctrine  just  stated  we 
are  almost  compelled  to  agree  with  The  Times. 
If  we  are  to  judge  by  the  conduct  of  the  Turk 
we  must  say  yes.  If  we  are  to  judge  by  the  in 
human  butchery  that  has  been  and  is  now  going 
on  just  off  our  Coast  in  Cuba,  we  must  again  say 
yes.  Have  we,  have  the  government  of  the  earth, 
had  so  long  a  period  of  peace  that  war  is  a  bles 
sing  to  established  authority,  in  the  distraction 
it  causes?  Are  rulers  looking  to  war  as  a  diver 
sion  of  the  public  mind?  Does  the  independent 
spirit  of  the  young  men  of  new  generations  re 
quire  war  every  now  and  then  for  their  proper 
submission  to  established  rules  and  authority? 

If  this  be  so,  I  submit  there  is  no  other  answer 
to  our  query  but  an  affirmative  one.  At  any  rate, 
there  is  a  war  fever  here  and  in  nearly  every  gov 
ernment  on  earth.  I  call  it  a  war  fever,  to  use  a 
milder  term,  but  perhaps  I  should  say  a  thirst 
for  blood. 

Our  own  Congress,  stung  by  the  atrocities  in 
Cuba,  passes  resolutions  which  may,  very  likely 
will,  lead  us  into  difficulties  and,  possibly,  war 
with  Spain.  But  for  one  man,  a  man  of  oak  and 
iron  from  Maine,  the  House  in  all  likelihood 
would  have  passed  the  resolution  at  once.  Why 
should  we  mix  up  in  the  quarrels  of  those  Cubans 
and  Spaniards?  They  are  a  hot-blooded,  hot 
headed  race,'  and  nearly  always  fighting.  We 
can,  and  do,  sympathize  with  the  Cubans  and 


Aching  for  War  97 

hope  they  may  secure  independence.  But, 
though  we  do,  is  it  best,  is  it  wise,  to  bring  on 
war  with  Spain  and  possibly  England  also?  A 
war  with  either  would  cost  us  millions  of  money 
and  thousands  of  lives.  A  war  with  both  might 
blot  out  our  own  fair  fabric  of  constitutional  lib 
erty.  To  kill  from  ten  thousand  to  a  hundred 
thousand  good  American  citizens  to  achieve  in 
dependence  for  the  Cubans !  What  a  sacrifice !  If 
slaughter  there  must  be,  let  it  be  among  them 
selves.  It  is  their  quarrel,  not  ours.  Why  kill 
good  citizens  to  save  Cubans?  Give  them  inde 
pendence  and  they  could  not  maintain  it  a  twelve 
month.  Even  Spain  could  not.  But  we  are  told 
that  the  cause  of  the  Cubans  is  just.  Suppose  it 
is.  Should  we  support  every  righteous  cause,  we 
would  be  at  war  somewhere  all  the  time — we 
still  have  the  Venezuelan  question  on  our  hands. 
Does  it  look  well  to  provoke  two  wars  at  once? 

Does  conduct,  can  any  acts  of  the  people  of  one 
government,  justify  the  people  of  another,  in  the 
sight  of  God,  in  waging  war,  save  possibly  that 
of  defense  against  invasion? 

In  private  life  it  is  said  to  be  a  pretty  good 
doctrine  to  mind  your  own  business.  Why  is  it 
not  the  same  with  governments?  In  olden  times 
war  was  waged  for  conquest  and  plunder,  but 
that  day  has  passed,  or  very  nearly  so. 

There  is  nothing  more  wasting,  more  cruel, 
more  wicked  than  war.  It  is  organized  and  legal 
ized  murder  and  butchery.  It  would  seem  that 


98  Letters-Essays 


no  man  in  his  right  senses,  be  he  in  authority  or 
not,  would  or  could  say  one  word  or  take  a  step 
calculated  to  inflame  the  passions  of  others  and 
thus  lead  to  war. 

The  great  army  of  plain  people  abhor  war,  and 
were  it  left  to  them  there  would  be  few.  Wars 
are  nearly  always  the  work  of  rulers.  As  Grant 
said,  so  say  I,  "  Let  us  have  peace."  When 
we  can  have  a  full  century  of  perfect  peace,  then 
we  can  answer  our  query  with  much  brotherly 
love  and  with  a  decided,  no — Can  we  before? 


ELLIOT    FAY 


Elliot 


O 


N  Wednesday  morning  last,  November  22, 
1893,  as  the  people  of  this  village  came 
out  from  their  homes  to  assume  the  la 
bors  'of  the  day,  they  were  startled  and 
shocked  by  the  news  that  Elliot  Fay  had  passed 
away  only  a  few  hours  previous.  They  were 
startled  because  no  one  had  even  a  suspicion  that 
his  end  was  so  near,  though  all  knew  that  he 
was  feeble  and  ill.  The  daily  information  for 
some  time  previous  had  been  that  he  was  slowly 
recovering  and  that  he  would  soon  start  for  a 
warmer  clime  in  which  to  spend  the  winter. 

Thus  it  is,  always  has  been  and  no  doubt  always 
will  be.  In  the  midst  of  the  activities  of  life,  when 
we  are  buoyed  up,  strengthened  and  encouraged 
by  the  plans  that  we  make  for  the  future;  by  the 
hope  in  tomorrow  which  we  all  so  fondly  cherish ; 
by  the  love  of  our  natures  which  warms  and 
irradiates  all,  we  are  cut  down  and  pass  away. 
Oftentimes,  as  in  this  case,  the  end  comes  at  a 
time  which,  to  our  short  and  weak  vision,  seems 
untimely,  and  we  can  hardly  keep  back  a  mur 
mur  of  complaint,  so  torn  are  our  affections.  We 
submit,  conscious  of  our  own  inability  to  dis- 


100  Letters-Essays 


cern  the  immutable  causes  and  forces  in  which, 
we  "  live,  move  and  have  our  being,"  tenderly 
lay  the  departed  away,  resume  our  duties,  as  we 
must  do,  and  move  on.  Hope  fills  our  sorrowing 
natures  and  bids  us  be  cheerful,  whispering  in 
our  ears  that  this  is  not  all,  not  the  end,  that  ties 
so  strong,  affections  so  deep,  cannot  be  cut  off 
and  lost,  that  the  great  law  of  compensation 
proves  this,  and  that  we  shall  meet  again. 

Mr.  Fay  was  a  son  of  Nathan  Fay  of  Rich 
mond,  Vt.,  where  he  was  born  May  11,  1837.  He 
remained  on  his  father's  farm  until  about  1850, 
when  he  apprenticed  himself  to  his  brother,  Harry 
C.,  who  was  conducting  a  printing  business  in 
Canton,  N.  Y.  In  1851,  his  brother  having  pur 
chased  The  St.  Lawrence  Mercury  at  Potsdam,  he 
removed  there  with  him,  and  was  with  him 
through  the  various  changes  and  consolidations 
of  the  paper  into  The  Courier  and  Freeman  in 
1861,  when  Harry  C.  entered  the  army  as  Cap 
tain  in  the  Ninety-second  Regiment.  Not  long 
after  this,  Mr.  Elliot  Fay  became  sole  proprietor 
of  the  paper,  and  continued  as  such  for  some 
years,  when  George  H.  Sweet  became  associated 
with  him  for  two  or  three  years,  under  the  name 
of  Fay  &  Sweet.  In  1891  he  took  in  his  son, 
Ernest  A.,  making  the  firm  name  Fay  &  Son,  and 
a  little  later  he  added  his  sons,  Harry  H.  and 
William,  under  the  name  Elliot  Fay  &  Sons. 

Mr.  Fay  was  of  spare,  slight  build,  under  five 
feet  eight,  weighing  less  than  one  hundred  and 


Elliot  Fay  101 

fifty,  moderate  in  movement,  wearing  a  full  beard, 
always  cheerful,  never  ruffled,  and  carried  his 
right  arm  from  the  elbow  at  nearly  right  angles 
to  his  body,  due  to  a  severe  burn  to  his  lower 
arm  when  a  boy. 

In  1869  he  was  appointed  Postmaster  at  Pots 
dam  by  President  Grant  and  held  the  office  for 
twelve  consecutive  years. 

Soon  after  coming  to  this  village  in  1871  I 
formed  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Fay,  which  soon 
ripened  into  a  close  and  intimate  friendship. 
From  that  time  till  his  demise  that  friendship 
was  never  broken  or  even  disturbed.  There  were 
times,  of  course,  when  we  did  not  at  first  agree 
as  to  "  men  and  measures  "  and  courses  to  be 
pursued,  but  these  never  affected  our  relations 
or  my  friendship  and  regard  for  him.  He  had 
his  views  of  matters  and  things,  the  ability  to 
express  them  and  the  courage  to  stand  by  them. 
These  are  qualities  which  we  all  admire  and 
which  both  test  and  toughen  friendship.  He  did 
not  like  controversy,  except  as  it  was  conducive 
to  a  right  understanding  of  the  matter  in  dis 
pute.  He  would  not  engage,  or  long  participate, 
in  a  bitter  or  acrimonious  discussion.  Not  from 
any  fear,  but  because  he  did  not  feel  or  believe 
that  such  a  controversy  was  helpful  to  a  just 
determination  of  matters.  Naturally  quiet, 
modest  and  retiring,  he  shrank  from  all  display 
or  ostentation.  He  sought  after  truth  for  its 
sake  only. 


102  Letters-Essays 


Early  in  my  acquaintance  with  Mm  I  found 
him  to  be  a  true  man,  gentle,  considerate,  genial, 
companionable  and  steadfast  in  his  friendship. 
I  soon  learned  to  confide  in  him  and  then  to  love 
him.  We  all  have  our  confidential  friend,  the 
one  to  whom  we  go  with  our  complaints,  our 
grievances,  our  trials  and  troubles,  and  Mr.  Fay 
was  mine.  For  some  years  I  have  confided  in 
him,  and  not  in  a  single  instance  did  he  ever  be 
tray  a  confidence  reposed,  even  to  those  who  be 
came  interested  with  us  in  the  matter  to  which 
the  confidence  related. 

My  last  interview  was  on  Sunday  evening  pre 
ceding  his  death,  when  I  was  with  him  for  some 
time.  He  was  up  and  dressed,  but  very  feeble. 
His  voice  was  weak  and  it  troubled  him  to  talk. 
He  asked  me  to  go  on  and  tell  him  all  the  news, 
which  I  did  as  well  as  I  could.  In  his  sickness 
and  feebleness  he  was  the  same  patient,  cheerful, 
uncomplaining  man  that  he  was  in  health.  He 
told  me  that  he  would  start  for  California  about 
the  10th  of  December,  and  that  he  thought  by 
"  putting  two  summers  "  together  he  would  get 
better.  Full  of  hope  and  cheer,  little  did  he  think 
there  was  no  more  summer  for  him. 

His  paper  was  his  pride.  He  did  not  aim  to 
make  it  startling  or  profound,  but  rather  a  clean, 
calm,  judicious  newspaper;  to  give  his  readers  a 
fair,  candid  statement  of  all  matters.  I  do  not 
think  there  was  ever  anything  in  his  paper  which 
one  could  not  read  unblushingly  in  the  presence 


Elliot  Fay  103 

of  ladies.  In  his  paper,  as  in  his  conversation  and 
life,  he  was  calm,  considerate  and  judicious.  In 
this  way  and  by  this  course  he  had  built  up  and 
made  his  paper  a  force  for  good,  a  factor  in  the 
affairs  of  this  section. 

No  man  among  us  took  a  deeper  interest  in 
the  welfare  of  this  village  or  in  the  prosperity 
•of  our  people.  In  the  twenty  years  that  I  have 
known  him  not  a  single  project  or  movement,  cal 
culated  and  intended  to  improve  and  better  the 
conditions  of  our  village  and  people,  has  been 
brought  forward  that  he  did  not  encourage  and 
assist  by  his  time,  his  counsel  and  his  influence. 
The  more  important  of  the  public  measures  and 
improvements,  which  he  contributed  to  the  es 
tablishment  of  among  us,  are  the  normal  school, 
town  hall,  cemetery  grounds,  pavement  of 
streets,  sewer  and  drain  system,  new  district 
school  houses,  engine  house,  board  of  health, 
loan  association,  and  many  others  of  a  minor 
nature. 

He  loved  our  village.  He  grew  up  with  it  and 
he  was  proud  of  its  growth,  its  schools,  its  church 
edifices,  its  fine  buildings,  its  majestic  elms,  its 
beautiful  streets,  its  clean  and  tasty  homes,  its 
happy  and  contented  men  and  women. 

He  loved  our  people,  and  without  exception 
they  respected  and  loved  him.  I  doubt  if  there 
was  a  shop,  mill,  store  or  home  in  this  village  to 
which  he  would  not  have  been  warmly  welcomed. 
He  had  no  enemies,  because  he  was  a  true  man. 


104  Letters-Essays 


He  walked  uprightly  and  lived  nobly.  He  had 
no  jealousy,  no  piques  and  no  resentments.  He 
was  kind  and  sympathetic  and  his  heart  was  ever 
warm  toward  all.  He  was  a  home  man  and  he 
loved  his  family.  He  was  proud  of  his  children 
and,  naturally,  was  much  interested  in  their  wel 
fare  and  success. 

The  expression  that  over  death  we  should 
throw  the  mantle  of  silence  and  charity  has  no 
application  or  requirement  with  respect  to  Mr. 
Fay.  In  his  case  we  can  remove  every  curtain  and 
portierre,  and  freely  invite  the  gaze  and  criticism 
of  men.  His  life  was  pure  and  sweet  and  whole 
some.  There  is  nothing  to  hide,  nothing  to  for 
get,  but  everything  to  remember.  One  of  my 
sweetest  treasures  will  be  the  memory  of  my  as 
sociation  with  him  and  the  belief  that  for  a  time 
I  had  and  held  his  respect  and  confidence. 


Will  War  Ever  (Tease? 


AM  not  at  all  surprised  to  learn  that  Gen. 
Sickles  maintains  that  wars  are  or 
dained;  that  no  death  is  so  glorious  as 
one  on  the  battlefield;  that  since  we 
have  had  wars  from  the  beginning  we  shall  al 
ways  have  them.  That  is  just  what  one  would 
expect  from  him,  or  any  other  soldier  of  distinc 
tion.  Should  he  take  a  contrary  position  he 
would  be  going  back  on  his  own  business.  He 
was  a  good  soldier,  no,  not  a  soldier,  but  Gen 
eral  in  the  Civil  War,  and  won  lasting  fame  at 
Gettysburg,  where  he  lost  a  leg,  since  which  time 
he  has  been  the  recipient  of  courtesies,  honor  and 
even  adulations  by  every  assemblage  into  which 
he  has  entered.  I  frankly  admit  that  it  is  right 
and  just  that  they  were  and  are  being  bestowed. 
It  is  safe,  I  think,  to  say  that  his  name  would 
not  last  a  hundred  years  but  for  the  opportunity 
of  war.  Through  war  and  by  war  he  won  the 
homage  of  all  men  while  living  and  a  place  in 
history  for  some  centuries  to  come.  War  has 
been  tender  and  kind  to  him  and  we  should  ex 
pect  just  such  sentiments  from  him. 


106  Letters-Essays 


What,  think  you,  would  be  the  views  of  war, 
could  they  speak,  of  the  real  soldiers  he  com 
manded,  those  who  did  picket  duty  while  he 
slept,  who  carried  heavy  burdens,  marched 
through  sand,  rain  and  mud,  cooked  their  own 
meals,  slept  on  the  ground  and  fell  in  battle 
pierced  to  death,  <or  of  those  who  survived  the 
tempest  of  lead,  scattered  here  and  there  over 
the  country,  quiet  heroes,  with  no  honors  beyond 
their  neighborhood  and  with  no  fame  or  place 
in  history  other  than  the  muster  rolls  at  Al 
bany  and  "Washington?  Would  those  who  fell 
in  battle  or  died  in  the  hospitals  or  prison  pens, 
could  they  speak,  tell  us  that  war  is  right,  much 
less  ordained?  Would  the  mothers,  widows  and 
orphans  of  those  who  so  died,  could  they  speak, 
tell  us  that  they  believed  war  to  be  a  divine  in 
stitution?  No.  I  hardly  think  that  any,  or  at 
least  but  very  few  of  those  would  so  view  or  look 
upon  war.  War,  as  Gen.  Sherman  told  us,  and 
as  everyone  who  knows  anything  knows,  is  hell. 
Sherman  was  an  able  man,  a  great  General  and 
won  almost  immortal  fame  as  a  soldier,  and  yet 
I  venture  to  say  that  his  characterization  of  war, 
though  only  using  one  word,  will  last  longer  than 
any  other  message  written  or  oral  that  he  ever 
uttered.  Why?  Because  he  could  not  in  an  ar 
ticle  of  two  thousand  words  paint  anything  more 
horrible  and  awful  of  war,  and  so  he  summed  it 
all  up  in  the  single  word  of  four  letters — hell. 

And  yet  Gen.  Sickles  says  wars  are  ordained 


Will  War  Ever  Cease?  107 

to  enforce  rights  and  redress  wrongs,  and  that 
they  will  never  cease.  Can  it  be  that  they  are 
ordained?  If  so,  where,  I  ask  in  all  sincerity, 
comes  in  or  is  shown  the  divinity  in  man?  It  has 
been  man's  pride  and  boast  from  time  immemo 
rial,  that  he  was  and  is,  made  in  the  image  of 
the  great  Father  whose  spirit  gave  him  life.  If 
he  be  such,  how  are  we  to  reconcile  his  propen 
sity  for  war  with  the  divine  spirit  with  which 
he  is  endowed,  if  wars  shall  never  cease?  To  say 
this  puts  man,  it  seems  to  me,  on  a  plane  not  one 
whit  above  the  animals  in  this  respect.  They 
are  warring  'on  and  eating  one  another  all  the 
time,  but  to  their  credit  be  it  said,  unlike  man, 
none  of  them  makes  war  on  his  own  species.  No, 
it  is  not  good  for  us  to  think  or  believe,  much 
less  to  maintain,  that  man  shall  not  some  time 
and  somewhere,  if  not  everywhere,  rise  in  the 
scale  of  manhood  and  decency  sufficiently  to 
cease  maiming  and  killing  his  brother  man  by 
wholesale,  and  receiving  honor  and  glory  for  the 
transaction.  Now  we  honor  and  decorate  the  man 
who,  by  daring  feats  with  mine  or  gun,  does  the 
greatest  butchery  or  causes  the  greatest  ruin  to 
the  enemy.  Will  we  always?  Will  it  always  be 
creditable  to  creep  in  the  darkness  out  to  an  an 
chored  vessel,  place  a  mine  and  blow  a  thousand 
men  into  eternity?  If  man  be  the  unredeemable 
animal  that  Gen.  Sickles  would  seem  to  indicate, 
it  probably  always  will  be,  but  I  am  loath  to  be 
lieve  this.  It  is  nobler  and  better  to  look  upon 


108  Letters-Essays 


man  as  a  progressive,  and  all  the  while  improv 
ing,  animal.  In  fact,  we  know  that  he  is.  Not 
many  centuries  ago  he  was  a  barbarian  and  back 
of  that  a  savage.  Today,  in  highly  civilized  coun 
tries,  he  is  a  respectable  being.  In  our  own  day 
and  time  quite  a  change  has  been  wrought.  Man 
is  not  as  coarse,  rough  and  brutal  here  in  our 
midst  as  he  was  fifty  years  ago.  He  has  become 
more  gentle  and  refined.  In  highly  civilized 
countries  he  has  sufficiently  advanced  to  settle 
private  disputes  without  resort  to  the  knife  or 
gun.  Why  cannot  governments,  then,  which  are 
but  a  collection  of  individuals,  do  the  same? 
They  could  if  they  were  composed  entirely  of 
pure  and  noble  men.  The  law  hangs  over  the 
individual  and  throws  him  who  uses  violence 
into  jail,  but  over  governments  there  is  no  such 
restraint.  Greed,  gain,  selfishness,  fame  and  glory 
enter  very  largely  into  every  war,  and  war  once 
begun  these  are  given  full  play.  But  for  these 
base  and  sordid  elements  in  man's  nature  there 
would  have  been  but  few  wars,  and  none  today, 
among  civilized  races.  Perhaps  they  can  never, 
even  in  thousands  of  years,  be  entirely  eliminated, 
but  they  are  being  and  will  continue  to  be  soft 
ened  and  weakened  as  a  potential  force  for  wrong. 
If  man  be  a  divine  being,  it  must  of  necessity  be 
that  he  will  ultimately  eliminate,  or  at  least  sub 
due,  his  animal  passions  to  the  extent  that  he 
can  live  with  his  neighbor  and  with  all  mankind 
in  peace.  It  cannot  be  that  it  was  intended  or 


Will  War  Ever  Cease  f  109 

that  man  will  always  war  upon  and  kill  his  fel 
lows.  To  think  that  he  always  will  do  so 
seems  cruel  and  heartless  and  must  make  those 
who  so  feel  and  believe  doubt,  if  not  deny,  the 
existence  of  divinity  in  man's  nature. 


flDotbet 


N  the  19th  day  of  October,  1893,  she  fell 
asleep — closed  her    eyes,  not    again  to 
open  on  the  scenes  of  this  world,  but  oh, 
how  we  hope  and  pray  to  open  again  on 
the  scenes  of  another,  where  there  are  no  trials, 
no  bickerings  and  no  sorrow. 

She  was  a  daughter  of  Elisha  Eisdon,  who  came 
into  Hopkinton  early  in  1804,  less  than  a  year 
after  its  settlement,  and  she  was  born  June  23rd, 
1822,  in  her  father's  log  cabin,  standing  about 
a.  mile  west  'of  Hopkinton  village,  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Potsdam  road.  Like  all  earthly 
things,  all  that  remains  to  mark  the  spot,  or  has 
for  years,  is  a  hole  in  the  ground,  over  the  fence 
in  the  pasture  field.  Her  sister,  Mrs.  Asahel 
Chittenden,  died  March  4th,  1875,  and  her  brother, 
E.  Harmon  Risdon,  November  15th,  1896,  at  Web 
ster  City,  Iowa,  where  he  removed  in  1870. 

She  was  married  to  Hon.  Jonah  Sanford,  Jr., 
February  17th,  1847,  and  survived  him  seven 
years  and  a  day.  It  can  be  easily  and  safely  said 
that  no  man  ever  had  a  more  faithful,  loyal  and 
uncomplaining  a  helpmeet.  Her  cares  and  her 
duties,  from  marriage  till  near  the  end,  were 
constant,  unremitting  and  never  for  a  moment 
slighted.  Faithful  spirit,  noble  woman! 


Mother  111 

She  was  ill  only  about  two  weeks,  though  she 
had  been  feeble  for  a  year  or  more.  During  this 
illness  she  was  able  to  be  up  every  day,  even  in 
the  afternoon  preceding  her  demise.  Her  chil 
dren,  Carlton  E.,  Herbert  J.  and  Mrs.  Alice  C. 
Shepard,  were  with  her  at  the  end.  Her  only 
remaining  child,  Silas  H.,  was  at  the  World's 
Fair,  where  he  had  gone  only  a  few  days  previ 
ous. 

Her  daughter,  Mrs.  Shepard,  was  constantly 
with  her  and  ministered  to  her  every  want,  as 
only  the  loving  sympathy  and  affectionate  re 
gard  of  a  daughter  could.  She  was  conscious 
till  nearly  the  last,  and  the  end  came  calmly  and 
peacefully,  befitting  her  sweet  and  loving  nature. 

She  was  a  bright,  intelligent  woman,  a  most 
excellent  housewife,  assiduous  and  attentive  to 
all  her  duties,  kind,  gentle,  generous  and  hospit 
able  to  all.  Her  life  was  completely,  and  per 
fectly,  a  labor  of  love.  She  never  thought  of  self, 
only  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  others,  and  this 
spirit,  which  had  actuated  and  dominated  her 
whole  life,  was  true  to  the  last.  Waking  from  a 
slumber  just  before  her  death,  she  feebly  ex 
pressed  her  sorrow  to  be  causing  others  trouble 
and  requested  her  watching  friends  to  seek  their 
rest.  What  a  spirit  was  hers!  So  perfectly  un 
selfish,  she  could  not  bear  to  cause  others  even 
an  extra  footstep.  And  yet  she  did  not  mind 
the  footsteps  she  took  for  the  members  of 
her  family  and  other  loved  ones.  Continually 


112  Letters-Essays 


through  life,  after  a  day's  labor  at  home,  she  was 
going  to  sick  neighbors  for  miles  about,  to  watch 
and  tender  her  loving  help.  What  tenderness 
and  loving  sympathy  she  bestowed,  all  the  while 
and  every  night,  for  years  upon  her  tired  and 
truant  boys  as  she  accompanied  them  to  bed! 
How  sweetly  she  reproved  them  for  the  little 
errors  of  the  day,  and  besought  a  promise  for 
better  conduct  on  the  morrow  as  she  kissed  them 
good  night.  How  little  they  then  knew  of  the 
full  import  of  all  that  tenderness  and  love!  It 
must  have  helped  them,  little  rascals  that  they 
were,  and  so,  after  all,  was  not  entirely  lost. 

She  was,  too,  a  most  heroic  woman.  Never  a 
murmur  of  complaint  escaped  her  lips.  She  ac 
cepted  whatever  came,  whatever  is,  with  Chris 
tian  fortitude,  and  did  her  best  to  get  as  much 
sunshine  out  of  life  as  possible.  She  was  always 
kind  and  affectionate,  and  so  much  so  that  it  was 
seldom,  if  ever,  that  she  uttered  a  harsh  or  un 
kind  word  toward  or  of  another.  Her  friends 
comprised  all  who  knew  her — all  who  came  into 
contact  with  her.  A  dutiful  wife,  a  loving  mother, 
a  sweet  spirit,  she  died  as  she  had  lived,  peace 
fully  at  rest  in  a  full  Christian  belief  and  life.  If 
there  be,  as  surely  there  must  be,  a  Celestial 
Home  for  such  spirits  as  hers,  she,  of  all  the 
writer  has  known  gained  as  ready  an  entrance. 
Her  remains  were  tenderly  laid  to  rest,  Rev.  Enos 
Wood  officiating,  beside  those  of  her  husband  in 
the  cemetery  at  Hopkinton. 


©n  the  %awn  witb  the  Bitbs 


Struggle  £o  Xive 


IITTING  with  some  friends  on  our  lawn  re 
cently,  the  goodly  part  of  a  beautiful 
day,  some  stray  and  possibly  strange 
thoughts  flitted  through  my  mind  which 
I  will  try  to  express  in  cold  letters  and  words. 
I  can  but  feebly  and  faintly  do  it,  as  all  who  have 
tried  to  express  the  meditations  and  reveries  of 
the  mind  will  attest.  It  was  a  charming  day.  A 
recent  shower  had  bathed  and  kissed  the  giant 
elms,  the  newly  mown  lawns,  the  flowers  and 
shrubs  about,  and  all  nature,  as  the  sun  flitted 
in  and  out  the  small  passing  clouds,  was  radiant 
in  her  deepest  hues  >of  green.  The  air,  too,  was 
balmy  and  rich  in  ozone  thrown  off  from  such 
luxuriant  verdure.  The  birds,  lovely  little 
creatures,  gifted  with  song  which  our  ladies  try 
to  imitate,  were  bobbing  about  almost  at  our  feet, 
looking  with  watchful  eye  for  insect,  bug  or  worm 
to  carry  to  their  children,  also  alighting  in  the 
trees  over  our  heads  and  chirping  a  kindly  greet 
ing,  as  much  as  to  say: 


114  Letters-Essays 


"  We  are  not  afraid  of  you,  as  you  do  not 
throw  stones  at  us  or  shoot  us  or  our  little  ones 
with  toy  guns,  and  we  bid  you  welcome;  the  most 
of  us  come  nearly  two  thousand  miles  every 
springtime  to  kill  the  insects,  bugs,  etc.,  that 
would  otherwise  hurt  or  greatly  injure  your 
crops,  your  vines  and  plants.  We  fill  the  air  with 
mirth  and  song  to  please  you  as  we  work.  In 
turn  some  of  you  buy  your  cruel  and  heartless 
boys  guns  with  which  to  shoot  us,  and  some  of 
you  sit  and  applaud  them  as  they  bring  us  down 
with  a  fatal  shot.  But  worse  than  the  cruel  boys 
are  your  pet  cats.  They  are  our  remorseless  and 
most  fatal  enemy.  But  for  them  we  would  come 
to  you  in  twice  'the  numbers  that  we  do.  Why 
do  you  keep  them,  or  at  least,  why  do  you  let 
them  loose  upon  us!  " 

The  scene  was  fine,  and  the  field  one  of  loveli 
ness  for  meditation  and  reflection  which  no  pen 
can  portray  or  depict  in  its  silent  depths!  And 
yet,  enchanting  and  lovely  as  it  all  was,  viewed 
for  pleasure  only,  it  soon  became,  as  we  shall  see, 
a  miniature  battle  field. 

The  robin  with  his  red  breast,  trim  and  beauti 
fully  rounded  and  proportioned  figure,  as  he 
jumps  and  bobs  along,  with  head  erect,  all  the 
time  searching  for  insect,  bug  or  worm  life  to 
feed  himself  and  his  little  family  in  a  neighbor 
ing  tree,  is  ever  watchful,  all  the  while,  never 
jumping  but  a  few  times  before  he  stops,  and 
views  the  field,  to  see  that  no  hawk  or  cat  or 
other  animal  is  about  to  jump  upon  him  and  take 
his  life,  as  he  is  doing  to  smaller  creatures.  Watch 


On  the  Lawn  with  the  Birds  115 

him  as  he  bobs  along.  See  how  quickly  he  cocks 
his  head  to  turn  his  full  eye  into  the  grass  and 
how  suddenly  he  strikes.  See,  he  has  caught  a 
worm  just  sticking  his  nose  to  the  surface  of  the 
ground  for  a  little  air  and  sunshine.  How  he 
jerks  and  pulls,  straight  up,  since  he  seems  to 
know  that  if  he  steps  back  the  side  pressure 
would  give  the  worm  the  advantage.  He  works 
violently  for  the  first  moment  till  he  gets  the 
worm  out  far  enough,  so  he  can't  work  back  into 
the  ground,  while  he  rests  and  surveys  the  field  to 
see  that  no  enemy  has  crept  onto  him  during  his 
distraction.  Seeing  that  he  is  safe,  he  again  tugs 
and  pulls,  now  stepping  back  as  the  worm  comes 
out.  The  struggle  over  and  the  worm  stretched 
out  on  the  grass  where  he  cannot  get  away,  he 
bobs  about  and  surveys  his  surroundings  with 
greater  care,  when  he  proceeds  to  bite  him  into 
pieces,  that  he  can  the  better  carry  him  to  his 
young.  The  worm  writhes  and  twists  and  squirms 
as  this  is  done,  which  is  proof  that  it  hurts  and 
pains  him,  but  the  robin  heeds  not  and  cares  not 
his  anguish,  no  pity  or  feeling  troubles  him.  Life 
is  sweet  to  him  and  he  must  eat  to  live.  He  loves 
his  young  and  they  must  have  food.  The  worm  is 
nutritious  and  palatable  and  his  need  and  his 
nature  tell  him  that  it  is  his  right  to  pull  the 
worm  by  main  strength  out  of  his  home  in  the 
ground,  and  to  kill  and  to  eat  him.  Perhaps  it 
is.  He  does  it  at  any  rate  the  livelong  day. 
And  while  in  this  reverie  over  the  destruction 


116  Letters-Essays 


of  life  by  the  birds  for  food,  and  trying  to  reason 
out  why  it  is  or  why  it  should  be,  we  are  all 
startled  and  aroused  by  a  greater  example  of 
this  same  principle  of  warfare  to  live.  Our  robin 
has  thoughtlessly  bobbed,  watching  the  while, 
close  up  to  a  low  shrub.  Our  cat  which  we  greatly 
prize,  some  distance  away,  has  noticed  the  fool 
ish  action  of  the  bird.  Slyly  and  silently  he 
hastens  to  get  the  bush  between  him  and  the 
robin  when  he  creeps  rapidly  and  silently  for 
ward.  Beaching  a  vantage  position,  intently 
alert,  with  murder  in  his  heart,  he  studies  the 
whole  situation,  the  distance,  the  way  the  robin 
will  go  on  his  flight,  when,  with  a  great  spring, 
he  bounds,  not  at  the  bird  on  the  ground,  but  into 
the  air,  where  the  bird's  course  and  his  will  meet. 
He  calculates  aright.  The  cat's  claws  reach  him 
and  bring  him  down.  There  is  much  flutter  of 
wings,  great  crying  and  wailing  by  the  poor  bird 
for  a  moment  only,  yet  it  is  sufficient  to  arouse  all 
the  birds  about  and  what  a  screeching  and  chat 
ter  they  make.  Their  wailing  is  something  ter 
rible.  It  is  deeply  sincere  and  even  pathetic.  The 
women,  too,  some  of  them,  are  greatly  agitated. 
They  jump  from  their  seats  at  the  first  cry  of 
the  caught  bird,  and  chase  the  cat,  crying  out 
with  the  birds  as  they  run :  ' '  Oh,  that  is  too  bad, 
you  naughty  cat.  Drop  him.  Poor  bird.  How 
dare  you?  " 

The  cat  goes  under  the  barn,  where  he  can 
eat  his  delicious  meal  undisturbed  by  the  chat- 


On  the  Lawn  with  the  Birds  117 

ter  of  birds  or  the  wail  of  women.  The  birds  sit 
about  in  the  trees,  on  the  fences,  or  other  ob 
jects,  for  some  time  pathetically  chirping  a  dirge 
for  their  lost  companion  and  friend.  The  women 
come  back,  resume  their  seats  and  for  a  time  we 
hear  nothing  but  their  sorrow  for  the  robin  and 
their  love  for  the  cat.  And  as  we  listen  to  their 
conflicting  sentiments  the  thought  comes  to  me, 
"  Can  that  which  is  shocking  to  the  mind  of  a 
gentle,  noble  woman  be  intrinsically  right?  " 
While  we  cogitate  upon  this  query  and  its  allied 
and  kindred  subjects,  as  much  in  the  mist  when 
we  stop  as  when  we  began,  our  cat  comes  slowly 
back  to  us.  There  is  no  fire  in  his  eye  now.  Ap 
petite  is  satiated.  He  is  dull.  A  feather  is 
caught  in  the  whiskers  of  his  face.  His  mistress 
gets  up  and  going  to  him  removes  it.  She  does 
not  strike  him,  simply  says:  "  You  naughty, 
naughty  cat.  Why  did  you  kill  that  poor  bird?  " 
We  soon  forget  the  incident  and  go  on  with  our 
musings  and  petty  talk.  Our  cat  strolls  away  a 
bit,  when,  like  a  flash,  round  the  house  comes  an 
Irish  setter.  Away  goes  the  cat  and  after  him 
at  a  furious  pace  goes  the  dog.  The  women  rush 
to  their  feet,  crying  out  frantically.  Some  start 
one  way  around  the  house  and  others  the  other, 
so  as  to  be  sure  to  intercept  the  dog,  but  they  are 
only  fairly  started  when  back  round  the  house 
comes  the  cat,  frightened  unto  death,  with  the 
dog  close  at  his  heels  and  gaining.  The  women 
rush  after  them,  but  it  is  a  hopeless  chase.  They 


118  Letters-Essays 


cry  out  to  the  men,  "  Why  don't  you  help!  He 
will  surely  kill  the  cat."  The  cat,  heavy  with 
the  bird  in  his  stomach,  is  handicapped  and  fears 
to  go  round  the  house  again.  He  spies  a  tree  in 
the  corner  of  the  yard.  Can  he  reach  it?  It  is 
his  only  hope.  If  so  he  is  safe.  If  not  his  time 
has  come.  He  puts  forth  a  tremendous  effort 
and,  by  jumping  when  ten  feet  away,  striking 
the  tree  some  five  or  six  feet  up,  has  just  saved 
himself.  The  women  breathe  easier.  They  throw 
sticks  and  stones  at  the  dog,  scold  and  storm  at 
him,  and  finally  drive  him  away.  Slowly  they 
return  to  their  seats,  taunting  the  men  with  being 
cruel,  heartless,  and  even  lazy  in  not  getting  up 
and  frightening  the  dog.  The  women  are  tired. 
They  fan  themselves  vigorously,  craning  their 
heads  and  necks  to  free  the  collar  with  interjec 
tions  of,  "  You  are  a  pretty  lot  of  men,  you  are, 
to  sit  here  and  watch  that  dog  almost  catch  and 
kill  that  cat."  The  men  smile  and  laugh  just  a 
little,  not  much,  saying,  "  They  were  too  quick 
for  us.  But  how  they  did  run. "  ' '  Yes, '  *  retorts 
one  of  the  ladies,  "  and  I  just  believe  you  didn't 
care  if  the  dog  caught  him.  I  don't  see  how  you 
men  can  be  so  cruel.  The  mean,  plaguy  dogs 
are  good  for  nothing.  Why  anyone  keeps  them 
I  can't  see.  They  ought  to  be  killed."  The  men 
subside.  It  is  better  they  should.  Feeling  and 
passion  are  getting  a  little  strained.  Luckily  for 
all,  the  dinner  bell  rings.  The  hostess,  rising, 
says,  "  Dinner  is  ready."  It  is  a  little  late.  All 


On  the  Lawn  with  the  Birds  119 

are  a  bit  hungry  and  arise  promptly,  not  hur 
riedly,  as  that  would  signify  gross  appetite,  which 
is  animal  and  must  not  be  shown  if  we  would 
be  aesthetic.  We  leisurely  proceed  to  the  din 
ing-room,  making,  or  trying  to  make,  as  we  go, 
playful  and  pleasant  remarks.  Some  succeed  and 
soma  do  not.  Those  who  try  hardest  succeed  the 
least.  Reaching  the  table,  we  stand  about,  with 
hand  on  the  back  of  the  chair,  awaiting  the  nod 
of  the  hostess  that  all  may  be  seated  in  unison, 
thus  dispelling  any  show  of  coarse  appetite, 
which  a  hasty  seating  would  signify. 

The  loin  of  a  lamb  is  on  the  table.  It  has  been 
cooked  richly  and  well.  The  odor  is  fine  and  it 
looks  most  tempting  and  palatable.  The  farmer 
caught  the  lamb,  a  few  days  prior,  while  it  was 
gamboling  around,  over  and  off  a  great  flat  rock, 
verily  like  a  child,  in  the  corner  of  the  pasture, 
with  its  big  eyed  mother  watching  its  antics.  The 
mother  ran  to  the  barway  and  up  and  down  the 
fence,  bleating  piteously  as  the  farmer  led  her 
child  away.  Her  grief  was  sincere,  genuine,  sim 
ilar  for  all  the  world  to  human  sorrow,  and  she 
expressed  it,  not  in  word,  but  in  tones  and  wail- 
ings  that  were  just  as  unmistakable.  She  prob 
ably  did  not  know  the  awful  fate  that  was  soon 
to  overtake  her  child,  but  she  did  know  that  she 
was  being  robbed.  The  farmer  sold  the  lamb  to 
the  village  butcher.  He  cut  its  throat  and  par 
celed  its  body  out  among  his  customers.  One 
piece  is  before  us.  We  bow  our  heads  and  one 


120  Letters-Essays 


of  our  number  asks  God  to  bless  this  bountiful 
repast  to  our  good.  The  lamb  is  served  to  all. 
We  indulge  in  light  and  cheerful  talk,  mingled 
now  and  then  with  a  little  mirth  and  mild 
laughter.  The  guests  gently  compliment  the  hos 
tess  on  the  salad,  or  bread,  or  some  other  article, 
inquire  how  it  was  prepared  and  close  by  tolling 
how  they  prepare  it,  which  is  a  little  different. 
Not  a  word  is  said  about  the  delicious  lamb.  I 
do  not  wonder  that  there  is  not,  after  the  exhi 
bition  of  pity,  feeling  and  sympathy  that  we  just 
witnessed  out  on  the  lawn,  for  the  robin  and 
cat. 

Just  to  transfer  that  scene  and  the  feelings  it 
awakened  to  the  dining-room,  not  pointedly,  for 
that  might  be  rude,  I  ventured  to  ask,  "  How  is 

it  that  we  so  bewail  the  conduct  of  the  " 

But  I  did  not  finish  it.  I  looked  to  the  hostess 
for  approval  or  to  see  whether  it  would  do,  when 
my  eyes  met  a  frown  that  stilled  the  tongue.  She 
knew  what  was  coming  and  I  knew  she  would,  or 
I  would  not  guiltily  have  looked  her  way.  The 
guests  did  not  know,  nor  did  they  see  the  frown, 
and  so  they  plied  me  with, '  *  What  were  you  going 
to  ask?  Why  don't  you  finish  it?  We  would  like 
to  hear  it."  A  little  nervous  and  flushed  in  the 
face,  I  replied,  "  No,  I  guess  I  better  not.  It 
was  of  no  account."  "  Oh,  yes  it  was,"  cries  a 
lady  guest.  "  Tell  us  what  you  were  going  to 
say,  our  curiosity  is  all  aroused  and  we  want  to 
hear  it. ' '  Declining  as  best  I  can,  the  hostess,  to 


On  the  Lawn  with  the  Birds  121 

help  me  out,  says,  "  Well,  will  we  go  back  to  the 
lawn?  "  and  as  she  does  so  arises,  and  of  course 
all  followed.  It  was  a  slick,  and  even  an  artful 
move  on  her  part  and  let  me  out  of  a  dilemma 
without  a  guest  even  suspecting  the  woeful  topic 
I  was  about  to  propound. 

I  would  liked  to  have  done  it,  but  probably  it 
would  not  have  been  polite  or  gentlemanly  to  so 
disturb  company.  We  go  back  to  the  lawn.  The 
gentlemen  smoke.  Conversation  is  smart  for  a 
time,  when  it  begins  to  lag.  The  lamb  is  digesting 
and  it  makes  us  a  little  dull  and  dozy.  One  of 
the  ladies  turns  in  her  seat  and  cries  out,  *  *  Why, 
there  is  the  cat  still  up  in  the  tree  sleeping." 
"  Don't  disturb  him,"  replies  the  hostess;  "  let 
him  sleep.  He  is  where  the  dogs  can't  get  him." 
Yes,  the  cat  was  sleeping  from  digesting  the 
robin.  We,  too,  were  more  than  half  asleep  from 
digesting  the  lamb.  In  fact,  one  of  the  men  came 
near  losing  his  head  over  the  back  of  the  chair 
several  times.  The  same  law  was  working  in  us 
and  in  the  cat.  The  cat  caught  her  own  meal. 
The  butcher  killed  ours  and  we  bought  it.  We 
could  not  have  killed  the  lamb.  Some  of  us  could 
not  even  see  it  done.  There  are  some  so  gentle 
and  sensitive  that  a  sight  of  the  butchery  would 
be  horrifying.  And  yet  the  most  kindly  hearted 
and  sympathetic  amongst  us  sit  up  to  the  table 
and  eat  fowl,  pig,  calf,  lamb,  etc.,  which  the 
butcher  has  killed  for  us,  and  which  he  would 
not  have  killed  had  he  not  known  we  would  buy 


122  Letters-Essays 


it,  without  the  slightest  discomfiture.  These  same 
people  go  almost  into  hysterics  as  they  see  a  cat 
running  away  with  a  screeching,  fluttering  robin 
in  its  mouth  or  a  dog  pouncing  upon  a  cat. 

While  we  are  thus  half  dozing,  soothed  by  the 
warm  and  balmy  air,  the  cat  wakes  up,  stretches 
itself  and  backs  down  the  tree  to  the  ground. 
Leisurely  he  crosses  the  lawn  and,  joining  our 
party  unnoticed,  mews  a  greeting.  The  ladies 
hear  him,  awaken  instantly  and  welcome  him 
with  soft  and  tender  words.  One  of  them  takes 
him  in  her  lap  and  with  her  soft  hand  plying  from 
the  top  of  his  head  along  his  back  most  caress 
ingly,  says,  "  You  are  a  nice  little  kitten.  That 
was  a  mean,  naughty  dog  that  gave  you  such  a 
chase  for  your  life.  We  were  awfully  afraid  he 
would  catch  you."  The  men,  hearing  the  "  cat 
talk,"  straighten  up,  stretch  themselves,  yawn  a 
little  to  the  side  or  under  the  cover  of  the  hand 
kerchief  and  one  of  them  ejaculates,  "  Well,  I 
declare,  I  believe  I  was  getting  drowsy.  You 
must  excuse  me,"  turning  to  the  hostess,  "  your 
most  excellent  meal  and  these  pleasant  surround 
ings  came  near  getting  the  best  of  me."  "  No 
apology  is  necessary,"  replies  the  hostess,  "  I 
think,"  smiling  a  little,  "  we  all  as  narrowly  es 
caped  as  you." 

Looking  at  his  watch,  one  of  the  men  says, 
speaking  to  his  wife,  "  Do  you  know  what  time 
it  is?  It  is  after  seven.  How  time  has  flown! 
George,  you  know,  said  he  would  call  this  even- 


On  the  Lawn  with  the  Birds  123 

ing.  He  would  feel  hurt  if  we  were  not  there  to 
receive  him."  Saying  this,  he  arose,  as  did  the 
others.  The  hostess  urges  them  to  dally,  saying 
it  was  not  late,  but  it  was  no  use.  With  hand 
shaking  all  round,  much  complimentary,  and 
even  effusive,  talk  as  to  the  fine  dinner  and  pleas 
ant  time,  we  all  saunter  to  the  roadway  walk, 
jesting  and  laughing  as  we  go.  Again  the  good 
byes  are  said  and  they  are  gone.  A  little  dis 
tance  away  one  of  the  men  calls  back  to  the 
hostess  holding  the  cat  in  her  arms,  "  The  next 
time  I  come  I  will  bring  my  gun."  She  replies, 
"  I  wish  you  would." 

Now  that  our  company  is  gone  I  can  indulge 
in  a  little  reverie  without  being  uncivil.  I  can 
ask  the  questions  that  the  frown  at  the  dinner 
table  arrested  my  doing.  Why  did  the  hostess 
give  me  such  a  look?  Would  talk  about  murder 
for  food  by  man,  since  we  are  all  doing  it,  be 
wrong  or  wicked  or  simply  indelicate  in  the  pres 
ence  of  refined  ladies  while  they  are  partaking 
of  it?  Why  be  ashamed  of  it,  if  it  be  right?  If 
it  be  cruel  or  wicked  I  can  well  see  why  "  the 
less  said  the  better. ' '  Why  are  we  cultured  mor 
tals  so  shocked  at  the  work  of  the  cat,  dog,  hawk, 
wolf,  tiger,  etc.,  when  we  butcher  the  bossie  calf, 
sporting  lamb,  noble  ox  and  about  everything 
else  whose  flesh  is  toothsome?  They  kill  as  they 
need.  We  slaughter  by  the  wholesale  and  often 
for  sport  and  amusement.  Is  it  the  divine  prin 
ciple  that  makes  it  right  for  us  and  something 


124  Letters-Essays 


shocking  when  they  who  do  not  know  better  and 
cannot  otherwise  live,  do  it?  I  do  not  know.  At 
any  rate,  there  is  a  cruel,  pitiless  warfare  going 
on  all  the  while  everywhere  to  live.  It  is  in  the 
air,  in  the  sea,  in  the  ground,  in  the  forest,  and, 
with  a  powerful  glass  may  be  seen  in  a  tiny  drop 
of  impure  water  by  animate  beings  too  small  for 
the  human  eye  to  discern.  Will  some  great  man 
of  science  yet  come  to  solve  these  mysteries 
which  perplex  and  make  us  sad — at  least,  some 
of  us?  Tell  us,  oh,  ye  gods,  why  the  basic  prin 
ciple  of  animal  life  and  living  should  be  murder! 


HON.   GEORGE  Z.   BRWIN 


Ifoon.  (Beorge  Z.  lErwin 


E.  ERWIN  was  born  at  Madrid,  N.  Y..  June 
15,  1840,  and  spent  his  boyhood  life  on 
his  father's  farm.  He  was  educated  at 
the  old  St.  Lawrence  Academy,  in  Pots 
dam,  and  at  Middlebury  College,  from  which  he 
was  graduated  in  1865.  On  completion  of  his 
college  course  he  took  up  the  study  of  law  in 
the  office  of  Dart  &  Tappan  in  Potsdam,  and  was 
admitted  to  the  bar  in  1867. 

Hon.  William  A.  Dart  was  appointed  Consul- 
General  to  Montreal  in  1869,  and  on  his  retire 
ment  from  the  firm,  Mr.  Erwin  entered  into  part 
nership  with  Charles  0.  Tappan,  Esq.,  under  the 
firm  name  of  Tappan  &  Erwin.  This  firm  did 
quite  a  lucrative  business  until  January  1st,  1878, 
when  it  was  dissolved,  Judge  Tappan  taking  his 
seat  on  the  Supreme  Court  bench.  After  this,  Mr. 
Erwin  practiced  law  alone  for  a  time,  when  the 
law  firm  of  Dart  &  Erwin  was  formed,  which 
continued  until  the  death  of  Mr.  Dart  in  1891. 

Mr.  Erwin  was  about  five  feet  ten  inches  in 
height,  very  stockily  built,  with  heavy  frame, 
possessing  great  vigor  and  strength,  and  weigh 
ing  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds  or  over. 


126  Letters-Essays 


He  was  a  man  of  great  tenacity  of  purpose  and 
most  indefatigable  in  whatever  he  undertook. 
Those  who  thwarted  or  opposed  him  in  his  ef 
forts  or  his  movements  found  him  a  most  unre 
lenting  antagonist. 

All  these  qualities  were  plainly  shown  in  his 
face,  in  his  large,  firm,  set  mouth,  and  in  his 
heavy,  square  jaw.  His  predominant  character 
istics  were  tireless  energy,  combative  force  and 
indomitable  will,  and  these  qualities  account  for 
and  explain  many  of  his  successes  in  political 
life. 

It  can  hardly  be  said,  I  think,  that  he  was  an 
orator,  writer,  or  cultured  student.  His  nature 
was  too  strong  to  apply  himself  sufficiently  to 
become  a  student.  He  was,  however,  a  most 
genial  and  pleasant  companion,  always  full  of 
spirit,  frolic  and  life,  easily  and  readily  stirring 
every  camp,  party  or  gathering  which  he  visited 
into  a  happy,  jolly  crowd.  In  this  particular  he 
was  quite  remarkable,  and,  of  course,  his  com 
pany  sought  after  on  all  occasions  by  the  boys 
and  politicians.  All  this  radiance  of  cheer  and 
life  seemed  to  be  the  natural  and  spontaneous 
work  of  his  nature,  and  made  him  a  host  of 
friends,  which  were,  on  many  occasions,  very 
serviceable  indeed.  He  was  an  artist  in  placa 
ting  an  enemy,  or  one  bent  on  disturbing  his 
plans,  and  in  mollifying  and  pacifying  all  rebel 
lious  spirits.  He  excelled  all  in  repairing 
"  fences  "  and  so  well  did  he  do  it  that  they  did 


Hon.  George  Z.  Erwin  127 

not  show  the  mending.  A  characteristic  way  of 
his  in  reaching  a  party  or  in  tying  a  friend  to 
him  was  to  tell  him  a  great  political  secret  "  on 
the  dead,"  one  that  no  one  in  these  parts  knew, 
one  that  he  would  not  have  "  get  out  for  the 
world, ' '  one  that  he  would  not  divulge  to  another 
soul  in  this  locality,  exacting  a  most  solemn 
pledge  not  to  reveal  it.  This  was  readily  given 
since  his  confidant's  curiosity  had  been  greatly 
wrought  up  by  the  solemn  and  mysterious  man 
ner  of  Mr.  Erwin.  In  imparting  it,  he  would  put 
his  two  hands  together,  making  a  box  of  them  up 
against  the  listener's  ear,  and  his  mouth  over  the 
space  between  his  own  two  thumbs,  talking  the 
great  secret  directly  into  the  friend's  ear,  so  that 
not  a  syllable  should  get  outside,  even  though  no 
one  was  in  the  room  or  present.  To  some  it  may 
look  strange  that  such  a  course  or  way  should 
have  any  effect,  but  it  did.  It  made  the  man  feel 
that  he  was  "  quite  a  fellow  "  to  be  made  such 
a  confidant,  and  the  "  only  "  one. 

With  his  friends,  particularly  in  all  matters  of 
politics,  Mr.  Erwin 's  great  expression  was  "  on 
the  dead,"  and  they  are  still  repeating  the 
phrase,  imitating  the  manner  in  which  he  did  it 
and  said  it,  accompanying  it  with  laughter  and 
genuine  good  will.  Thomas  C.  Platt  used  this 
course  for  years,  and  on  bigger  men  than  there 
are  in  these  parts,  and  successfully.  By  the  boys 
and  his  friends  at  home  he  was  pretty  generally 
called  "  Zal,"  and  still  is. 


128  Letters-Essays 


Mr.  Dart,  whose  daughter  he  married  soon  after 
being  admitted  to  the  bar,  was  a  bright  and  ac 
complished  gentleman,  and  a  Eepublican  advo 
cate,  as  was  also  Judge  Tappan.  Thus,  in  be 
ginning  the  study  of  law  he  was  in  the  atmos 
phere  of  stalwart  Eepublicanism,  which  was  also 
congenial  to  him.  He  at  once  took  a  live  and 
active  interest  in  all  political  matters  in  his  town 
and  assembly  district.  He  was  naturally  a  poli 
tician.  He  liked  nothing  better  than  a  political 
contest,  into  which  he  threw  all  the  winning 
qualities  and  energies  of  his  nature.  So  active 
was  he  that  in  November,  1881,  he  was  elected 
member  of  the  Assembly  from  the  third  district 
of  St.  Lawrence.  Though  a  new  member,  he  was 
placed  on  the  Ways  and  Means  Committee,  and 
was  also  made  a  member  of  several  investigating 
committees.  He  was  re-elected  in  1882,  and  made 
a  member  of  the  same  committee,  also  that  of 
railroads.  In  1883  he  had  most  decided  oppo 
sition  in  his  efforts  for  renomination,  owing  to 
the  custom  of  the  district  not  to  send  a  man  but 
twice  in  succession,  but  he  triumphed,  owing 
wholly  and  entirely  to  his  great  pluck,  tact,  abil 
ity  to  placate  opponents  and  indomitable  energy. 
In  1884  he  was  a  member  of  several  of  the  most 
important  committees,  and  also  of  a  special  com 
mittee  to  investigate  the  Public  Works  Depart 
ment  in  New  York  City. 

In  1884  he  was  nearly  successful  in  his  effort 
to  gain  the  Speakership,  and  in  1885  he  easily 


Eon.  George  Z.  Erwin  129 

reached  that  honorable  and  coveted  position.  He 
made  a  most  excellent  presiding  officer,  and 
served  in  the  assembly  for  six  years  in  all,  1882- 
1887. 

In  1887  he  was  elected  to  the  State  Senate  from 
the  twentieth  district,  holding  that  position  for 
three  terms,  1888-1893.  As  a  legislator,  both  in 
the  assembly  and  senate,  he  had  the  peculiar 
faculty  of  making  friends  with  all,  and  enemies 
of  none,  democrats  as  well  as  republicans.  He 
became,  after  a  little  experience,  well  informed 
on  all  parliamentary  rules,  and  quite  a  good 
debater,  by  reason  of  his  force,  will  power,  and, 
at  times,  terrific  attack. 

He  secured,  while  in  the  Legislature,  the 
passage  of  quite  a  number  of  important  meas 
ures.  Among  these  was  an  act  organizing  the 
Dairy  Department  at  Albany;  the  prohibition  of 
the  sale  of  liquor  in  five  gallon  lots  in  towns 
which  had  no  license;  the  securing  of  an  appro 
priation  of  eighty-one  thousand  dollars  in  1893 
to  restore  the  burned  asylum  building  at  Ogdens- 
burg,  which  he  had  made  a  law  in  five  days,  and 
in  securing  the  passage  of  an  act  in  1886,  in  four 
or  five  days,  authorizing  the  trustees  of  the  vil 
lage  of  Potsdam  to  put  in  sewers  and  drains. 
The  passage  of  these  measures  in  such  a  brief 
time  shows  the  estimation  in  which  he  was  held 
by  the  members  of  the  Legislature  and  the  power 
he  possessed  in  those  bodies.  The  effort  which 
brought  him  the  most  notoriety  and  fame  while 


130  Letters-Essays 


in  the  Legislature  was  his  leadership  of  the 
forces  supporting  Frank  Hisoock  in  1887  for 
United  States  Senator.  In  this  struggle,  against 
fearful  odds,  his  leadership  was  Napoleonic  in 
its  originality  and  boldness. 

Though  his  time  was  greatly  taken  up  in  his 
efforts  to  keep  the  political  machinery  of  his  dis 
trict  in  smooth  running  order,  he  never 
neglected  the  welfare  of  his  home  village  or  con 
stituents.  No  man  from  Northern  New  York, 
while  in  office,  looked  after  his  people  so  well  as 
he  did.  No  one  ever  secured  anything  like  the 
number  of  places  for  his  constituents  that  he  did. 
There  were  at  one  time  upwards  of  twenty-five 
of  these  holding  positions  under  the  state  gov 
ernment  or  that  of  New  York  City.  He  seemed 
to  lhave  a  great  ' '  pull  ' '  or  influence  with  the  of 
ficials  of  the  state  and  city. 

In  the  great  effort  to  locate  the  Normal  School 
in  Potsdam  Village,  in  1868,  he  took  an  active 
and  influential  part,  and  was  soon  made  a  mem 
ber  of  its  local  board,  and  a  little  later  treas 
urer  of  the  board,  which  he  continued  to  hold 
till  his  death.  He  assisted  in  the  organization 
of  'the  Fair  Society  at  Potsdam  in  1871,  and  was 
for  several  years  a  member  of  its  board  of  direc 
tors  and  for  one  year  its  president. 

In  the  struggle  to  sewer  and  drain  the  village, 
in  1886,  after  securing  the  passage  of  an  act 
enabling  the  village  to  do  this,  he  returned  to  his 
home  and  aided  and  assisted  the  work  in  every 


Hon.  George  Z.  Erwm  131 

way  he  could.  He  was  one  of  the  organizers  of 
the  Thatcher  Manufacturing  Company,  a  most 
successful  industry,  and  was  Vice-President  of 
the  company  from  its  organization  in  1890  to  his 
death.  He  was  also  one  of  the  promoters  of  the 
High  Falls  Sulphite  Company,  and  was  its  Presi 
dent. 

In  his  life  at  home,  among  his  neighbors  and 
those  who  knew  him  he  was  always  genial,  social 
and  companionable.  His  high  position  made  no 
difference  whatever  in  his  treatment  of  all  who 
came  into  his  presence.  There  was  nothing  of 
the  snob  or  aristocrat  in  his  make-up  or  nature. 
He  ever  gave  to  the  poorest  and  lowliest  of  his 
neighbors  as  kind  a  word  and  as  warm  a  hand 
grasp  as  he  did  to  those  who  ranked  higher  in 
life.  This  trait  in  him,  with  others  previously 
stated,  made  him  a  host  of  friends  and  a  most 
formidable  antagonist  in  any  political  struggle  or 
caucus.  For  many  years  he  held  absolute  sway 
in  his  town  and  in  his  assembly  district.  He 
seemed  to  simply  own  the  district  and  to  name 
every  nominee  to  office  and  delegate  to  conven 
tions.  There  were,  of  course,  times  of  bitter  op 
position,  but  he  always  triumphed,  though  there 
was  more  or  less  complaint  at  times  over  his  au 
dacity  and  boldness  in  securing  success. 

The  sport-loving  members  of  the  community 
were  always  and  ever  his  constant  and  most 
loyal  friends.  They  stood  ever  ready  to  do  his 
bidding  in  any  struggle,  and  today,  thirteen  years 


132  Letters-Essays 


after  his  demise,  his  name  and  memory  come  up 
more  frequently  and  are  spoken  of  with  more 
warmth  and  friendliness  by  this  circle  of  men 
than  the  name  and  memory  of  'any  who  has  de 
parted  that  I  can  name.  He  had  and  held  their 
affection  to  an  amazing  extent,  and  his  memory 
will  linger  with  them  so  long  as  life  shall  last. 

About  a  year  before  his  death,  owing  to  his 
strenuous  life  and  indefatigable  labors  in  the 
political  field,  his  health  began  to  fail  him,  and 
he  went  to  the  Maine  coast,  hoping  by  perfect 
quiet  to  renew  his  health.  Later  he  went  to  a 
specialist  in  New  York  City,  who  informed  him 
that  his  heart  was  in  bad  condition,  and  that  he 
should  return  to  his  home.  From  this  time  till 
his  death,  January  16th,  1894,  he  was  a  great  suf 
ferer,  having  extreme  difficulty  in  breathing. 
For  a  week  prior  to  his  death  there  seemed  to  be 
some  slight  improvement,  and  on  Tuesday  morn 
ing  at  5  o'clock  he  got  up,  as  was  his  custom,  to 
sit  for  a  few  moments  in  his  chair,  and  this 
proved  his  last  effort.  Very  soon  he  said  to 
his  attendant:  "  I  feel  faint;  help  me  back  to 
bed."  This  was  done,  and  in  a  few  moments  he 
had  breathed  his  last.  It  was  indeed  a  peaceful 
ending  to  an  active  and  most  strenuous  life. 

There  was  a  large  attendance  at  his  funeral, 
including  many  prominent  officials  and  politicians 
from  the  county  and  different  parts  of  the  State. 

He  left  a  widow,  Mrs.  Caroline  Dart  Erwin,  to 
mourn  his  untimely  going. 


©\>8ter  farming 


HE  American  Fisheries  Society  held  its 
twenty-fourth  annual  meeting  in  the 
Aquarium  in  New  York  City  on  Wednes 
day  of  last  week.  There  were,  I  should 
judge,  some  fifty  portly,  fine  looking  gentlemen 
in  attendance,  representatives  from  various 
states,  even  as  far  west  as  Nebraska.  Hearing 
so  much  of  the  drouth  in  Nebraska  and  Kansas, 
one  would  hardly  expect  to  find  gentlemen  from 
those  states  attending  a  fish  meeting.  But  they 
were  there,  and  bright,  intelligent  men  they  were. 
So  it  must  be  they  have  streams  and  ponds,  after 
all,  in  those  drouth-stricken  regions.  The  Fish, 
Game  and  Forest  Commissioners  of  this  state 
also  attended  the  meeting  in  a  semi-official  ca 
pacity.  Eeceiving  a  courteous  and  generous  in 
vitation  through  the  kindness  of  William  E. 
Weed,  one  of  the  Commissioners,  to  attend  the 
meeting  and  also  an  excursion  on  the  following 
day,  inspecting  oyster  beds  and  oyster  culture  on 
Long  Island  Sound,  I  very  gratefully  accepted 
the  same. 

The  Aquarium  is  the  old  Castle  Garden,  reno 
vated  and  made  over  into  a  fine  structure  for  the 


134  Letters-Essays 


purpose.  Originally  it  was  a  fort  and  has  a  stone 
wall  seven  feet  in  thickness  about  one  story  in 
height,  in  circular  form  on  the  water  side.  These 
walls,  good  in  their  time,  perhaps,  would  be  of 
but  little  service  now — our  latest  guns  would 
throw  a  ball  through  both  walls  about  as  readily 
as  it  would  through  two  sheets  of  tissue  paper. 
As  an  Aquarium  it  is  yet  quite  incomplete.  How 
ever,  there  are  a  good  many  strange  fishes  and 
water  animals  to  be  seen  there  at  present.  The 
tank  in  which  the  most  interest  was  taken  con 
tained  two  seals  about  three  feet  in  length.  They 
are  not  of  the  fur  species,  but  of  the  hair  species, 
the  kind  on  which  the  Eskimos  principally  live. 

The  meeting  of  the  society  lasted  nearly  all  day, 
and  consisted  of  reading  papers  on  all  sorts 
of  topics  relating  to  fish  culture,  and  to  discus 
sion  of  the  points  brought  out  by  these  papers. 
On  the  following  day,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Fish,  Game  and  Forest  Commissioners  of  this 
state,  an  inspection  of  the  oyster  beds  of  Long 
Island  Sound  was  made.  The  boat  for  the  ex 
cursion,  for  such  it  proved  to  be,  was  furnished 
by  the  wealthy  and  public  spirited  citizen,  John 
H.  Starin,  who  owns  many  boats  plying  about 
New  York  City.  The  party  consisted  of  about 
fifty  gentlemen,  most  of  whom  are  either  inter 
ested  in  fish  culture  or  prominent  in  other  walks. 
Messrs.  B.  H.  Davis,  H.  H.  Lyman,  Edward 
Thompson  and  William  E.  Weed,  of  the  State 
Commissioners;  J.  A.  Roberts,  Comptroller  of 


Oyster  Farming  135 


the  State;  T.  E.  Hancock,  Attorney  General  of 
the  state;  Senators  Kilburn,  Guy  and  Stapleton; 
A.  N.  Cheney,  fish  culturist  of  the  state;  E.  P. 
Doyle,  secretary  of  the  commissioners,  and  others 
were  present.  The  boat  left  the  Battery  at  ten 
a.  m.  and  passed  up  East  Eiver  under  the  Brook 
lyn  Bridge,  through  Hell  Gate  and  out  into  Long 
Island  Sound.  The  bridge  is  one  hundred  and 
thirty-five  feet  from  the  water,  but  as  we  passed 
under  it,  it  did  not  seem  to  be  near  that  height. 
The  East  Eiver  for  several  miles  was  verily  alive 
with  every  conceivable  craft.  In  the  mouth  of 
the  Sound  we  passed  a  large  number  of  vessels 
at  anchor,  sails  furled,  waiting  for  wind,  tide  or 
a  tug  to  take  them  down  East  Eiver.  We  pro 
ceeded  up  the  Sound  about  forty-five  miles, 
nearly  opposite  Northport,  L.  I.  The  Sound  at 
this  point  is  seven  miles  in  width.  There  we  met 
a  small  steam  oyster  boat,  which  came  along 
side  our  boat  and  about  as  readily  as  two  farmers 
could  turn  two  wagons  along  side  one  another 
in  the  street.  In  a  moment  we  got  aboard  the 
oyster  boat  and  steamed  away  a  short  distance. 
Commissioner  Thompson  at  this  time  took  charge 
of  the  party  and  of  the  proceedings.  He  stated 
that  we  were  then  over  one  of  the  best  beds  in 
the  Sound  and  that  he  would  explain  oyster  prop 
agation  and  culture,  which  he  proceeded  to  do  in 
a  verbal  and  practical  way.  By  the  way,  Mr. 
Thompson  is  a  bright  and  genial  man.  He  lives 
at  Northport  and  is  largely  interested  in  oyster 


136  Letters-Essays 


raising.  The  boat  we  were  on  is  principally 
owned  by  him  and  was  out  in  the  Sound  for  the 
entertainment  of  our  party  at  his  instance.  He 
is  the  principal  stockholder  in  the  company 
which  is  compiling  and  publishing  The  Encyclo 
paedia  of  Law,  a  very  popular  and  useful  work 
and  one  that  has  proved  very  remunerative  to 
him. 

The  subject  of  oyster  raising  is  one  that  I  find 
is  but  little  understood  by  the  general  public,  or 
even  by  the  more  cultured  public.  From  the  re 
marks  that  were  made  I  do  not  think  there  was 
one  on  the  boat,  aside  from  those  interested  in 
the  business,  that  had  any  conception  of  oyster 
culture.  Only  recently  I  desired  to  investigate 
the  subject,  and  secured  two  encyclopaedias,  but 
could  get  no  information  of  any  importance.  The 
practical  methods  used  for  propagation  and  cul 
ture  Messrs.  Thompson  and  Capt.  Dexter  K.  Cole, 
of  Northport,  L.  L,  gave  me  briefly  on  the  boat. 
I  will  relate  the  same  as  told  to  me.  Accord 
ing  to  these  gentlemen,  the  whole  of  Long  Island 
Sound  is  adapted  to  oyster  raising.  It  is  mostly 
of  the  proper  depth.  The  waters  are  protected 
from  great  turbulence  by  the  land  on  either  side 
and  contain  the  proper  elements  of  nutrition. 
The  south  half  or  so  of  the  Sound  belongs  to  New 
York  state  and  the  north  half  to  Connecticut. 
Some  years  ago  this  state  gave  the  Northport 
Oyster  Company  a  franchise  of  two  hundred 
acres  selected  by  the  company  in  the  Sound  for 


Oyster  Farming  137 

oyster  raising.  A  franchise  is  a  perpetual  lease. 
Other  parties  made  bitter  complaints  at  this 
concession,  principally  on  the  ground  that  the 
state  was  being  a  party  to  a  monopoly,  that  the 
weak  oyster  men  would  soon  be  ruined,  etc.  In 
this  they  were  successful,  as  the  state  has  de 
clined  to  grant  any  further  franchises.  Since 
then  the  greatest  privilege  given  by  the  state  is 
a  fifteen-year  lease.  A  good  many  maintain,  and 
with  some  reason,  it  would  seem,  that  it  should 
be  a  franchise  in  every  instance,  as  it  is  quite 
expensive  to  fit,  stock  and  care  for  an  oyster  bed. 
It  would  seem  to  be  quite  difficult  for  one  to  find 
his  own  bed  of  a  few  acres,  from  three  to  five  miles 
from  land,  but  they  say  those  experienced  have 
no  trouble  whatever.  They  locate  the  boundaries 
by  buoys  and  by  angles  and  lines  from  desig 
nated  objects  on  the  shore  which  are  noted  and 
written  out  by  the  engineers  the  same  as  a  piece 
of  land  when  it  is  conveyed.  However,  I  think 
it  would  be  some  time  before  one  of  our  farmers 
could  learn  to  find  his  bed  as  readily  as  he  now 
does  his  potato  patch  or  corn  field. 

The  first  thing  to  do  in  oyster  cultivation,  after 
locating  the  section,  is  to  clean  the  ground.  The 
depth  of  water  usually  selected  for  a  bed  is  from 
thirty-six  to  forty  feet.  The  ground  is  cleared 
of  seaweed,  decayed  matter  and  dirty  soil  by 
means  of  a  sort  of  scraper,  worked  by  steam  from 
a  boat.  When  the  bed  is  properly  cleaned,  it  is 
covered  over  with  broken  stones,  oyster,  clam 


138  Letters-Essays 


and  other  shells  and  coarse  gravel.  About  a 
thousand  bushels  of  stone,  shells  and  gravel  are 
put  upon  each  acre  of  the  bed.  Thus  prepared, 
they  get  oysters,  three  and  four  years  of  age, 
from  several  localities  and  spread  them  over  the 
bed.  They  usually  put  about  ten  bushels  of 
oysters  on  each  acre  and  they  are  put  on  in  July 
or  August.  The  oysters  to  seed  the  bed  are  se 
lected  from  several  localities  for  the  reason  that 
very  often  the  oysters  taken  from  one  locality 
will  not  thrive  or  propagate  when  transplanted, 
and  there  is  no  way  of  determining  in  advance 
whether  they  will  propagate  or  not.  The  beds 
are  seeded  in  July  and  August,  as  the  oyster 
spawns  in  the  latter  part  of  August  and  in  Sep 
tember,  and  it  is  desirable  to  give  them  a  little 
time  in  which  to  get  suited  to  their  new  situation. 
The  spawn,  late  in  October  and  in  November, 
is  brown  in  color  and  about  the  size  of  the  head 
of  a  pin.  They  stick  to  the  stone  and  shells 
which  have  been  prepared  for  them.  If  crushed 
when  in  this  diminutive  state  it  will  be  perceived 
that  they  have  an  embryo  shell.  There  is  no 
means  of  definitely  knowing,  but  it  is  believed 
that  a  single  oyster  will  spawn  thousands  of 
young  oysters.  If  the  "  seed  oysters  "  should 
prove  to  spawn  well,  or  even  fairly  well,  then 
there  are  altogether  too  many  oysters  on  the  bed 
for  them  to  do  well.  The  great  difficulty  experi 
enced  by  oyster  men  is  in  getting  a  good  * '  catch  ' : 
or  "  seed,"  -as  they  term  the  spawning.  Should 


Oyster  Farming  139 


it  prove  a  failure  they  can  only  stock  it  with  a 
fresh  supply  of  seed  oysters  the  following  July 
or  August.  Thus  far  oyster  men,  at  least,  are 
unable  to  determine  the  sex  of  the  oyster.  The 
oyster  is  never  artificially  fed.  He  gets  all  need 
ful  food  from  the  salt  water  in  which  he  lives. 
The  oyster  does  not  grow  to  a  proper  size  for 
market  until  it  has  reached  three  years  or  more. 
From  three  to  five  years  is  the  best  age  for  mar 
ket.  Oysters  are  harvested  from  September  first 
to  May  first  only,  for  market.  Aside  from  the 
home  consumption,  it  is  estimated  that  from 
seventy-five  to  a  hundred  thousand  barrels  of 
oysters  are  shipped  annually  from  in  and  about 
Long  Island  Sound  to  Europe.  The  capital  re 
quired  to  properly  cultivate  oysters  is  about 
$1,000  per  acre.  Annually  the  beds  that  are 
doing  well  are  thinned  out.  The  oysters  are 
brought  up  by  a  scoop  net  to  the  boat  and  the 
older  ones  selected  out  and  taken  to  another  bed, 
where  they  are  again  planted  to  grow  and  fatten 
for  the  market.  The  young  oyster  is  dropped 
back  into  the  sea  for  capture  at  a  later  date. 
Oysters,  like  every  poor  creature  that  I  know 
anything  about,  have  their  parasites,  their  ene 
mies,  aside  from  man,  the  majestic  devourer  of 
every  living  creature  that  is  toothsome.  These 
pests  cause  the  oyster  man  a  great  amount  of 
labor  and  expense.  They  are  known  as  the  sea 
star  fish,  the  drill  and  the  wrinkle.  The  greatest 
enemy  is  the  star  fish,  and  the  next  the  drill.  The 


140  Letters-Essays 


wrinkle  is  not  a  great  destroyer.  The  oyster  man 
is  compelled  to  be  almost  continually  fighting 
these  pests.  They  often  scoop  up  the  whole  bed 
annually  for  this  purpose  alone.  For  our  enlight 
enment  on  this  point,  the  scoop  nets  were  thrown 
out  and  three  scoops  of  oysters,  star  fish,  drills, 
wrinkles,  crabs  and  other  unnameable  and  hideous 
creaJtures  brought  up  and  dumped  on  the  deck. 
These  nets  were  coarse  rope  netting  with  heavy 
iron  jaws  at  the  mouth,  the  upper  jaw  having  a 
six-foot  heavy  iron  handle  attached  in  the  mid 
dle,  and  to  the  end  of  this  a  heavy  chain.  The 
weight  of  the  net  is  sufficient  to  unreel  the  chain 
and  sink  it  to  the  bottom.  The  chain,  being  at 
tached  to  the  iron  arm  of  the  upper  jaw,  keeps 
the  scoop  right  side  up.  The  iron  of  the  lower 
jaw  not  being  held,  drops  and  opens  the  mouth 
of  the  net.  As  the  net  is  falling  the  boat  is 
slightly  moving  forward,  which  causes  the  net 
to  scoop  up  the  oysters.  When  ready,  the  net  or 
scoop  is  hauled  in  by  steam  power  and  the  con 
tents  dumped  on  the  deck.  If  the  work  is  being 
done  to  rid  the  bed  of  its  pests  these  are  fished 
out  by  hand  and  the  oysters  thrown  back.  If  the 
work  be  to  thin  out  the  bed  or  to  select  oysters 
to  fatten  in  other  places  these  are  picked  out,  as 
also  the  pests.  The  star  fish  are  thrown  into 
boiling  water  for  certainty  in  killing.  Tear  off 
the  arm  of  one  and  it  will  grow  out  again.  About 
four  bushels  of  oysters,  etc.,  were  brought  up  in 
each  scoop  that  we  saw.  Some  scoops  are  suf- 


Oyster  Farming  141 


ficiently  large  to  bring  up  twenty-five  bushels 
in  a  single  dip.  The  star  fish  is  usually  from 
five  to  six  inches  across,  'though  they  often  reach 
a  diameter  of  twelve  inches.  They  have  five  arms 
or  legs  extending  out  from  a  common  center  at 
equal  distance,  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel.  The 
arms  are  about  the  size  of  a  lady's  finger  and 
covered  with  white  circular  spots  twice  the  size 
of  a  pin  head.  There  does  not  seem  to  be  any 
head  or  body,  simply  the  legs  come  together  in 
the  center,  but  Ithere  is  a  mouth  in  the  center 
on  one  side.  All  that  we  saw  had  their  legs  out 
straight  and  quite  rigid.  Bend  their  legs  or  step 
on  them  and  crush  them  or  do  what  you  please 
to  them,  there  was  no  sign  of  life  whatever.  They 
put  their  mouth  over  the  thin  edge  end  of  the 
oyster  shell  and  bring  their  legs  to  the  shell,  thus 
enfolding  it.  It  is  not  known  that  they  can  force 
the  shell  open;  it  is  rather  believed  that  they  lay 
and  wait  till  the  oyster  opens  his  shell  for  sus 
tenance  when  they  intrude  a  portion  of  them 
selves,  thus  preventing  the  oyster  from  closing 
the  shell,  when  they  are  able  to  suck  out  and  eat 
the  oyster.  The  drill  is  usually  about  a  half -inch 
in  length,  though  in  mature  age  it  is  three- 
fourths  of  an  inch.  They  are  circular  in  form, 
quite  square  at  the  base  end  and  gently  taper 
to  a  point.  The  outside  is  shell  and  quite  strong. 
A  needle  or  some  kind  of  a  boring  bit  extends 
from  the  pointed  end  and  bores  a  hole  about  the 
size  of  a  pin  through  the  shell  of  the  oyster.  By 


142  Letters-Essays 


means  of  this  hole  the  oyster  is  eaten.  The  drill 
does  its  greatest  injury  to  young  oysters.  The 
wrinkle  is  an  animal  larger  than  an  oyster  and 
very  lively  when  removed  from  its  shell,  which 
is  from  six  to  eight  inches  in  length,  coming  to 
a  point  and  rolled  up  at  its  base,  something  like 
the  shells  which  we  have  as  curiosities. 

Thus  we  see  and  learn  that  the  eternal  strug 
gle,  the  pitiless  warfare  going  on  on  land  among 
all  animal  creation  is  also  going  on  in  the  bot 
tom  of  the  sea.  After  seeing  and  learning  what 
we  did  it  is  a  wonder  to  me  'that  oysters  cost  no 
more  than  they  do.  I  intended  speaking  of  some 
of  the  strange  and  hideous  "  beasts  "  which  our 
scoop  brought  up,  but  since  that  does  not  pertain 
to  oyster  cultivation  it  would  not  properly  appear 
in  this  article.  I  have  given  the  story  of 
oyster  culture  as  stated  to  me  by  those  gentle 
men.  I  may  not  be  accurately  correct  in  some 
minor  particulars,  but  believe  I  am  in  all  essen 
tials. 


ZTbomas  S,  Clarion 


T  is  sad  and  painful  to  think  and  to  know 
that  Thomas  S.  Clarkson  is  no  more.  It 
is  sad  and  painful  to  think  and  to  know 
that  we  shall  not  again  meet  his  strong 
figure  and  kindly  face  in  our  daily  walks. 
It  is  sad,  not  tftiat  death  is  a  terror,  for  it 
is  not,  and  was  not  to  him.  Death  is  the 
common  fate  of  mankind.  It  is  but  the  close 
— the  earthly  termination  of  a  life.  All  the 
living  must  die,  and  equally  so  must  all  those 
who  shall  come.  To  die  is  but  to  complete  the 
great,  the  universal  law  of  being.  No,  we  mourn 
not  at  death  of  itself,  but  over  the  ties  which  it 
sunders,  the  loss  we  sustain.  When  it  comes  to 
a  mature  and  perfected  life  there  is  nothing  more 
natural — more  in  consonance  with  the  law  of 
being,  and  we  should  be  content.  But,  when  it 
comes,  as  in  this  case,  in  the  heyday  of  life,  in 
the  midst  of  the  activities  of  great  usefulness 
and  good,  bowing  in  humble  submission  as  we 
must  and  should,  we  cannot  if  we  would,  still 
the  lip  from  uttering,  feebly  it  may  be,  the 
anguish  and  sorrow  which  is  upon  us.  There  is 
not,  cannot  be,  anything  wrong  in  this.  To  live 
well,  so  nobly  and  well  that  our  going  will  be  re- 


144  Letters-Essays 


gretted  and  mourned  by  those  who  knew  us,  is 
the  duty  of  all.  Comforting  is  the  thought  that 
He  who  rules  the  universe  "  doeth  all  things 
well  "  and  for  the  best  good  of  all.  Belying  on 
this  universally  believed  doctrine  we  accept  af 
flictions  which  we  cannot  explain,  wipe  the  mois 
tened  eye,  still  the  quivering  lip,  and  resume  our 
duties.  Life  is  upon  us  and  we  must  "  be  up 
and  doing  with  a  heart  for  any  fate. ' ' 

Mr.  Clarkson  died  at  his  home  in  Potsdam  on 
Sunday  morning  last,  August  19,  1894,  and  the 
news  of  his  demise  rapidly  spread  over  our  vil 
lage.  It  was  not  startling,  since  every  one  knew 
that  his  life  was  hanging  by  a  thread,  and  had 
been  for  several  days.  The  accident,  for  such  it 
seems  to  mortal  eyes,  which  caused  his  death,  oc 
curred  on  Tuesday  of  last  week,  August  14th,  at 
his  stone  quarry,  about  three  miles  above  this 
village,  a  pump,  weighing  nearly  two  and  a  half 
tons,  slipping  from  its  blocks  and  falling  upon 
and  crushing  one  of  his  legs.  The  workmen 
soon  succeeded  in  sufficiently  raising  the  pump  so 
that  he  could  be  drawn  from  under  it,  when, 
brave  and  heroic,  he  would  not  wait  for  a  litter 
to  be  prepared,  but  insisted  on  being  taken  home 
in  a  farm  wagon  at  once.  His  men  so  loved  him 
that  several  of  them  walked  ahead  of  the  team, 
picking  up  the  loose  stones,  to  save  him  the  jar 
they  would  cause. 

Beaching  home,  some  three  miles  distant,  his 
first  wish  was  to  assure  his  sisters,  telling  them 


Thomas  8.  Clarkson  145 

that  a  broken  leg  was  not  a  serious  matter.  How 
ever,  he  seemed  to  realize  that  his  injuries  would 
prove  fatal,  since  he  said  to  his  niece:  "  This  pain 
is  all  right.  I  have  not  suffered  any  for  over 
fifty  years,  and  it  is  a  good  preparation  for 
death."  Thus  feeling  and  believing,  he  refused 
to  take  any  stimulants  or  narcotics,  preferring  to 
keep  his  senses  and  a  clear  mind,  though  suffer 
ing  intensely. 

Mr.  Clarkson  was  born  in  New  York  City  No 
vember  30,  1837,  coming  to  this  village  in  1840. 
He  was  a  son  of  Thomas  S.  Clarkson,  who  re 
sided  here  for  many  years  and  died  here  several 
years  ago. 

As  a  young  man  he  attended  the  old  St.  Law 
rence  Academy,  finishing  his  education  with  pri 
vate  tutors.  He  and  his  brother,  Levinus,  con 
ducted  the  Clarkson  farm  of  upwards  of  a  thous 
and  acres  for  several  years.  Between  these  broth 
ers  existed  the  kindliest  regard  and  the  most  af 
fectionate  companionship.  On  his  brother's 
death  in  October,  1876,  he  gave  his  attention  to 
various  business  enterprises  in  our  village.  He 
did  this  not  so  much  to  profit  by  them,  though 
he,  of  course,  hoped  to  make  them  self-support 
ing,  but  to  give  employment  to  our  people. 
Nothing  pleased  him  more  than  to  see  all  who 
wished  employment  engaged  in  some  lucrative 
business.  He  entered  into  many  enterprises  in 
which  there  was  no  apparent  show  of  profit, 
simply  and  solely  to  give  employment  to  those 


146  Letters-Essays 


needing  it.  He  often  expressed  the  wish  that 
some  enterprise  could  be  started  here  that  would 
give  labor  to  every  man  and  woman  who  desired 
it,  saying  that  if  any  one  would  do  so  he  would 
gladly  furnish  the  money.  No  one  accepting  this 
offer,  he  gave  his  attention  to  various  enterprises 
himself.  He  owned  quite  a  part  of  the  lower 
half  of  Fall  Island  and  most  of  the  business  done 
on  the  Island  was  conducted  directly  or  indi 
rectly  by  him.  The  farm  on  which  he  resided  con 
sists  ,of  upwards  of  one  thousand  acres  and  re 
quired  quite  a  retinue  of  employes.  He  also 
worked  his  stone  quarries  every  season,  employ 
ing  a  large  number  of  men. 

He  was  a  most  just  and  generous  employer, 
perhaps  too  kind  and  forgiving,  judged  from  a 
business  standpoint.  Were  all  employers  equally 
as  just  there  certainly  would  be  no  'occasion  for 
a  strike  anywhere.  His  payroll  at  all  times  was 
quite  large,  and  during  the  summer  season  was 
large  indeed.  Often  asked  why  he  bothered  him 
self  with  all  the  business  cares  in  which  he  was 
enlisted,  he  would  answer  with  a  laugh  and 
shrug  of  the  shoulder:  il  Oh,  to  make  money." 

He  gave  his  manufactories,  stone  quarries  and 
farm  his  constant  and  unremitting  care  and  at 
tention — seldom  if  ever  taking  a  vacation,  or  any 
recreation,  and  yet  he  always  had  time  to  give  to 
those  who  wished  to  see  him.  He  would  give  the 
common  laborer  an  interview  as  readily  and  pleas 
antly  as  he  would  any  one  else,  and  more  than 


Thomas  8.  Clarkson  147 

this,  he  would  often  help  them  in  any  sort  of 
work. 

He  was  President  of  The  Thatcher  Manufactur 
ing  Company,  The  Electric  Light  Company,  The 
Clarkson  Manufacturing  Company  and  The  Pots 
dam  Milk-Sugar  Company,  and  also  interested  in 
several  co-partnerships. 

He  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the 
Episcopal  Church  of  this  village,  of  which  he  was 
a  member  and  also  a  warden.  He  took  charge 
of  the  building  of  the  chapel,  and  also  of  the 
magnificent  front  to  the  church  a  few  years  since, 
and  with  his  sisters,  paid  substantially  the  whole 
of  the  expense.  He  also  took  charge  of  the  build 
ing  of  the  Episcopal  Church  at  Colton,  the  ex 
pense  of  which  was  borne  by  his  family.  He  also 
took  a  great  interest  in  -our  cemetery  grounds, 
giving  freely  and  generously  to  beautify  and 
adorn  them.  His  charities  and  kindness  were 
most  genuine  and  liberal  and  abound  and  are  seen 
on  every  hand. 

(No  man  ever  lived  in  Potsdam  who  took  a 
greater  interest  in  or  who  did  more,  or  as  much, 
with  that  in  view,  for  the  welfare  and  prosperity 
of  the  village  as  did  he.  No  one  ever  had  to  ask, 

"  Where  stands  Mr.   Clarkson?  "  in  any  move 

* 

or  project  which  tended  to  improve  and  better 
the  condition  of  the  people.  He  did  not  take  part 
in  politics,  except  in  municipal  matters  now  and 
then,  when  needed  improvements  were  involved. 
He  was  several  times  a  member  of  the  board  of 


148  Letters-Essays 


trustees.  During  the  struggle  in  1886  to  sewer 
the  village  he  was  on  the  board  and  no  one 
worked  more  loyally  and  heroically  than  did  he. 
No  good  cause,  no  good  movement  was  ever  pre 
sented  to  him  which  he  did  not  help.  His  purse 
and  his  hand  were  ever  ready  and  willing  to 
help  any  worthy  person  or  cause.  He  was  a 
friend  of  the  church,  the  school,  the  poor  and 
lowly,  and  not  only  a  friend,  but  a  benefactor. 

He  was  kind,  gentle,  generous  and  just.  There 
was  no  trickery,  no  cunning,  no  fraud  in  his 
make-up  or  nature.  He  was  honest  in  every  move 
and  walk  and  turn  of  life.  He  could  not  be  other 
wise,  and  the  rascality  and  perfidy  of  others 
caused  him  pain.  His  habits  were  pure  and 
simple  and  his  life  sweet  and  wholesome.  Dur 
ing  his  whole  life  not  a  whisper  was  ever  heard 
to  tarnish  his  name.  His  talk,  his  acts,  his  life 
were  those  of  a  gentleman  and  man.  He  loved 
his  family,  his  sisters,  and  was  devoted  to  them. 
He  loved  everybody  and  never  spoke  ill  of  any 
one.  His  heart  was  too  big  and  his  nature  too 
kindly  and  generous  to  bear  enmity  or  hatred 
toward  any  one.  His  death,  tragic  almost,  in  the 
midst  of  so  much  usefulness  and  kindness,  seems 
untimely  and  hard  to  bear.  In  his  death  the 
poor  and  lowly  have  lost  a  kind  friend,  the 
church  and  school  a  benefactor,  every  worthy 
cause  a  supporter,  and  our  village  and  people 
one  of  their  dearest  and  best  citizens.  Our  loss 
seems  incalculable  and  irreparable. 


Htbene  IDeteue  Bull 


WHILE  ago  Mr.  Sackett,  the  accomplished 
editor  of  the  Gouverneur  Tribune, 
spoke  of  this  village  as  the  Athens 
of  northern  New  York.  It  was  a 
pretty  compliment  and  pleased  our  people  greatly. 
It  touched  their  pride,  and,  as  there  was 
then  some  foundation  for  it  (otherwise  Mr. 
Sackett  would  not  have  said  it),  we  had  a  right 
to  feel  not  only  a  little  elated,  but  actually 
proud.  We  have  since  nursed  the  fondling  with 
much  care,  but,  somehow,  it  doesn't  seem  to 
thrive  or  prosper.  Our  orators,  lecturers  and 
essayists  every  now  and  then  take  it  up,  and  with 
burning  words  and  cultured  periods  strive  to 
fasten  it  on  the  public  mind,  and  to  implant  it  in 
the  buoyant  spirit  of  our  youth,  but  somehow, 
do  what  we  will,  the  sentiment  is  slowly  dying 
out. 

Why  is  it?  What  is  the  matter?  Surely  there 
is  a  cause — nothing  happens  in  this  world  with 
out  a  cause.  It  has  been  my  constant  study  for 
over  a  year  to  solve  this  decadence.  Our  nobility, 
our  gentry,  our  scholars,  poets  and  literati  gen 
erally  have  all  been,  and  now  are,  engaged  in 


150  Letters-Essays 


the  same  worthy  cause.  Athens  of  old  went 
down,  it  is  true,  but  only  after  centuries  of  great 
splendor.  We  have  been  an  Athens  only  about 
three  years.  To  decay  and  die  in  such  infancy 
is  both  a  mortification  and  a  shame.  Mr.  Sack- 
ett  has  done  all  we  can  reasonably  hope  or  ex 
pect  of  him.  Surely  no  one  would  have  the  brazen 
effrontery  to  ask  him  to  keep  singing  our  praise. 

Now,  if  we  will,  we  can  hold  and  maintain  the 
prestige  and  position  which  he  gave  us.  If  we 
fail  we  alone  will  be  to  blame. 

In  looking  about  us  for  the  cause  I  find  we 
have  one  great  school,  the  munificent  gift  of  a 
most  generous  family,  more  than  we  had  when 
we  were  made  an  Athens.  "We  have  since  built 
a  great  edifice  in  which  to  gather  and  worship, 
and  to  teach  peace  and  gentleness,  in  the  name 
of  the  Master.  All  the  other  churches  we  then 
had  are  in  peaceful  and  fruitful  operation.  All 
our  social,  moral  and  aesthetic  clubs  and  societies 
are  still  adding  polish  and  culture  to  an  already 
highly  wrought  and  sensitive  people. 

So,  it  is  plain  that  there  has  been  no  retrogres 
sion,  no  decadence  among  our  people  in  piety,  in 
scholarship  or  learning.  Athens  was  great  as  a 
seat  of  learning.  So  are  we.  Old  Athens  lacked 
piety.  We  do  not.  We  have  added  this  grace 
to  learning.  Accordingly  we  are  really  greater 
and  better  than  Athens  of  old,  for  no  sane  man 
will  claim  for  a  minute  that  piety  hurts  learning 
or  harms  a  people  of  culture. 


Athens  Versus  Bull  Dogs  151 

And  yet  we  are  slowly  dying  in  public  estima 
tion,  at  least  as  an  Athens.  Our  neighbors,  and 
even  our  friends,  now  seldom  call  us  by  that  proud 
name.  It  is  getting  to  be  plain  Potsdam  as  of 
yore.  To  be  sure,  they  are  kind  enough  to  leave 
out  one  of  the  t's,  but  then  there  is  no  charm,  no 
significance,  no  glory  in  it  such  as  springs  spon 
taneous  with  the  bare  utterance  of  the  great 
name  Athens. 

How  we  would  all  love  to  be  universally  and 
by  everyone  called  Athens!  What  elation  it 
would  give  us!  What  a  stimulus  it  would  be  to 
culture! 

Mourning  over  this  apathy  and  indifference  on 
the  part  of  our  friends  and  neighbors  to  so  call 
us,  after  having  kindly  given  us  the  name,  and 
utterly  failing  to  find  any  cause  for  it  from  local 
conditions,  I  turned  my  attention  to  a  study  of  the 
decadence  and  fall  of  Athens  of  old,  and  having 
found  the  reason,  hasten  to  give  it  to  the  public. 
Our  societies,  I  am  sure,  will  pardon  me  for 
this,  since  such  a  discovery  should,  under  the 
rules,  be  first  given  to  them  for  analysis  and 
emasculation.  In  my  researches  I  visited  several 
great  libraries  in  distant  cities.  In  the  Boston 
Athenaeum  I  found,  luckily,  a  work  by  a  Greek 
philosopher  which  has  been  but  little  read,  as 
there  are  but  four  copies  of  it  known  to  be  in 
existence,  and  no  other  in  this  country. 

I  know,  of  course,  as  everyone  does,  that  Noah 
took  a  pair  of  bull  dogs  into  the  ark  with  him. 


152  Letters-Essays 


Why  he  did  I  don't  know  and  don't  believe  any 
one  else  does.  The  only  reason  that  can  be  given 
is  that  he  was  commanded  to  do  so.  If  that  be 
true,  why  he  didn  't  shove  them  out  into  the  rag 
ing  sea  when  the  ark  got  above  the  mountains 
is  a  puzzler  and  has  been  to  all  peaceably  in 
clined  people  ever  since.  However,  he  was  kind 
enough  to  land  them  in  such  an  out  of  the  way 
place  that  nothing  is  known  of  them  from  the 
time  the  ark  went  into  port  until  the  year  176 
B.  C.,  and  for  this  period  of  time  we  even  now 
should  be  grateful.  According  to  this  Greek 
work,  in  that  year  a  Celt  wended  his  way  across 
Europe  and  finally  reached  Athens  with  a  pair 
of  bull  dogs  at  his  heels.  The  following  day  he 
opened  a  saloon,  with  a  new  drink,  a  sort  of  com 
pound  of  what  we  now  know  as  alcohol  and  beer. 
The  saloon  took  and  the  bull  dogs  bred. 

In  twenty-five  years  after  his  advent  there  were 
three  thousand  one  hundred  and  twenty  saloons 
in  that  small  city,  and  seven  thousand  four  hun 
dred  and  fifty-two  bull  dogs.  As  one  may  readily 
imagine,  there  was  soon  a  new  order  of  things  in 
Athens.  The  Acropolis,  where  for  centuries  the 
scholars  of  all  kinds,  poets,  orators,  statesmen, 
etc.,  had  been  wont  to  meet  and  confer  for  the 
common  weal  and  good,  slowly  died  out  in  inter 
est  and  attendance  and  was  finally  abandoned  in 
the  year  152  B.  C.  The  ruins  of  this  great  theater 
of  learning  may  still  be  seen  by  the  tourist. 

Brawls  and  fightings  were  all  the  rage.    There 


Athens  Versm  Bull  Dogs  153 

were  street  fights  galore  for  the  common  public, 
fights  in  saloons  for  the  next  grade  and  in  amphi 
theaters  built  for  the  purpose  for  the  gentry  and 
nobility.  To  own  a  dog  that  could  kill  another 
in  the  fewest  number  of  minutes  was  a  great 
honor,  and  the  dog  brought  a  fabulous  price. 

This  writer,  who  is  our  authority,  is  not  certain, 
but  is  quite  sure  that  several  great  public  dog 
fights  lasting  several  days  were  held  in  the  Acrop 
olis  after  it  was  abandoned  as  a  hall  of  learn 
ing.  His  pictures  of  the  battles,  the  fierce,  savage 
brutality  of  the  dogs,  the  cries  of  the  wounded 
and  dying  curs,  and  the  wild  plaudits  of  the  on 
lookers  made  a  spectacle  which,  to  our  want  of 
experience,  is  both  sickening  and  disgusting,  but, 
no  doubt,  with  a  few  years  more  of  familiarity 
with  it  we  can  enjoy  it  as  they  did. 

They  didn  't  like  it  at  first.  Before  the  bull  dog 
came,  Athens  had  several  varieties  of  pet  dogs, 
gentle,  tractable  and  peaceable,  the  chums  and 
playmates  of  her  youth.  The  bull  dogs  made 
short  work  of  these,  as  they  are  now  doing  with 
our  own  pet  dogs.  In  the  year  161  B.  C.  there 
were  only  seven  pet  dogs  left  in  the  city  and 
these  were  saved  only  by  great  vigilance. 

The  youth  of  Athens,  I  am  sorry  to  learn,  when 
they  could  not  get  bull  dogs  fighting  one  another, 
would  set  them  on  to  stray  pet  dogs,  just  to  see 
the  fun. 

Our  youth,  smart  set,  are  doing  the  same  thing 
almost  every  day — and  yet  there  are  many  good 


15* Lertm  fwtfj* 

people  who  maintain,  sincerely  and  honestly,  that 
we  are  born  full  of  divinity — come  into  the  world 
kind  and  good,  and  that  all  our  cnssedness  and 
wickedness  are  acquired.  When  we  read  of  the 
heartless  cruelty  of  the  yonth  of  Athens  and  see 
the  same  work  by  onr  own  boys,  nineteen  centu 
ries  later,  we  are  tempted  to  say  that  we  are  born 
devils,  and  that  the  gentleness  and  goodness  we 
exhibit  in  after  life  are  acquired. 

The  bull  dog  that  ruined  Athens  of  old  made 
his  appearance  on  Market  street  about  two  years 
ago.  His  coming  was,  in  every  respect,  very 
sinritar  to  his  advent  there  twenty  centuries  ago. 
His  descendants  have  multiplied  until  they  are 
already  in  practical  control  of  the  street.  FigEt- 
ing  is  of  almost  daily  occurrence.  When  not 
fighting  among  themselves,  they  are  chasing. 
taping  and  verily  eating  pet  dogs.  Quite  a  num 
ber  of  these  have  been  bitten,  torn  or  nearly  killed 
by  these  brutes,  and  some  are  now  being  nursed 
and  tenderly  cared  for  by  their  mistresses. 

These  hyenas  of  dogs  stand  in  hallways  and 
along  the  street,  waiting  for  some  cruel,  vicious 
youth  to  set  them  on  or  for  some  playful  cur  in 
his  innocence  to  snarl  at  them,  as  dogs  are  wont 
to  do.  Usually  two  bull  dogs  work  together,  no 
matter  how  small  and  puny  may  be  the  pet  dog. 
In  all  the  fights  we  have  known,  not  once  have 
we  witnessed  any  interference  by  the  supposed 
owner.  He  says,  or  apparently  says,  "  Oh,  Fll 
risk  my  dog."  Very  soon,  if  not  already,  farmers 


Athens  Versus  Butt  Dogs  155 

will  hesitate  to  come  here  to  trade,  as  they  did 
in  Athens  of  old,  as  their  dogs  are  Hkely  to  be 
pounced  upon,  lacerated  and  even  killed.  With 
savage  mien,  with  scarred,  torn  and  bloody 
heads,  the  very  acme  of  ngliness,  they  are  a 
menace  to  peace  and  good  order. 

We  all  pay  taxes,  and  for  what?  Is  it  not  to 
secure  good  order  and  protection  to  life  and  prop 
erty!  Most  certainly  it  is.  Then  why  are  not 
these  dogs  removed  or  kept  nrazzled?  Our  case 
is  rapidly  paralleling  Athens  of  old. 

At  the  rate  we  are  going  we  will  soon  be  able 
to  see  onr  end  as  did  she.  Onr  schools,  churches 
and  colleges  may  flourish  for  a  time  and  stem 
decadence  and  death,  but  they  cannot  arrest  it, 
the  bull  dog,  unchecked,  will  triumph  here  as  he 
did  there,  in  the  end. 

Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  with  our  streets  full  of 
bull  dogs,  that  our  friends  refuse  to  longer  speak 
of  us  as  Athens  T  They  know  that  where  bull  dogs 
prevail  it  is  not  and  cannot  be  a  real  Athens.  Cul 
ture  does  not,  cannot,  and  never  did  thrive  among 
bull  dogs.  One  or  the  other  must  give  way. 
Which  shall  it  be! 


Jubge  Charles  ©.  {Tappan 


TAPPAN  was  born  in  Addison,  Vt, 
April,  17,  1831.  His  father,  Jacob  Tap- 
pan,  moved  to  Essex  county,  New  York, 
in  that  year,  and  remained  there  as  a 
farmer  till  1853,  when  he  returned  to  Panton,  Vt., 
where  he  died.  Mr.  Tappan  attended  the  dis 
trict  schools  and  also  the  Moriah  Academy.  In 
1851  he  entered  the  law  office  of  John  F.  Havens, 
at  Moriah,  sustaining  himself  during  his  studies 
by  teaching  school.  He  also  privately  studied 
with  Edward  M.  Dewey,  his  friend  and  fellow 
student,  who  was  graduated  from  Middlebury 
College.  On  the  4th  day  of  July,  1853,  he  was 
admitted  to  the  bar,  at  a  term  of  court  held  at 
Plattsburg,  N.  Y.  On  his  admission,  he  and  his 
friend,  Dewey,  entered  into  the  law  firm  of 
Dewey  &  Tappan,  and  came  to  Potsdam,  where 
they  opened  an  office.  In  the  following  year  the 
Hon.  William  A.  Dart  was  taken  into  the  firm, 
the  style  becoming  Dart,  Dewey  &  Tappan.  In 
1856  Mr.  Dewey  withdrew  from  the  firn\  going 
to  Chicago  for  the  practice  of  law,  where  he  died 
October  18,  1869.  In  1861  Mr.  Dart  received  an 
appointment  from  President  Lincoln  as  a  district 


JUDGE  CIIAHLES  O.   TATI'AX 


Judge  Charles  0.  Tappan  157 

attorney  for  the  northern  district  of  New  York, 
and  he  made  Mr.  Tappan  his  assistant.  In 
1869  Mr.  Dart  received  the  appointment  of 
United  States  Consul-General  to  Canada,  when 
the  Hon.  George  Z.  Erwin  associated  himself 
with  Mr.  Tappan,  under  the  firm  name  of  Tappan 
&  Erwin.  This  firm  continued  until  January  1, 
1878,  when  Mr.  Tappan  became  a  Supreme  Court 
Justice. 

For  m'any  years  Mr.  Tappan  was  a  member  of 
the  board  of  trustees  of  the  St.  Lawrence  Acad 
emy,  and  took  a  most  active  and  zealous  part  in 
the  work  of  securing  the  location  of  the  State 
Normal  School  in  Potsdam  village.  I  doubt  if 
any  one  did  more,  or  possibly  as  much,  as  he,  to 
bring  about  its  location  at  Potsdam,  after  the 
movement  had  been  inaugurated.  Its  location 
here  was  bitterly  opposed,  and  but  for  his  ef 
forts  and  that  of  some  others  it  would  have  been 
defeated.  He  made  arguments  in  1866  before  the 
board  of  supervisors  and  meetings  of  the  tax 
payers  of  Potsdam,  and  as  an  attorney  drew 
Chapter  6  of  the  laws  of  1867,  and  defeated  the 
litigation  which  sought  to  prevent  the  location 
of  the  school  at  Potsdam.  When  the  struggle 
was  finally  decided  in  favor  of  Potsdam  he  be 
came  one  of  the  commission  to  superintend  its 
construction  and  was  elected  its  secretary.  He 
was  a  member  of  the  first  local  board  and  was 
its  isecretary  until  1878.  He  was  a  leader  in  the 
movement  to  organize  the  E.  V.  and  St.  E.  V. 


158  Letters-Essays 


Agricultural  Society  in  1870,  and  was  its  presi 
dent  for  three  years.  On  the  organization  of  the 
bar  association  -of  the  county  in  March,  1876,  he 
became  its  president  and  held  the  position  till  his 
death.  In  1886  he  was  the  leader  in  the  move 
ment  to  put  in  a  system  of  sewers  and  drains  in 
the  village  of  Potsdam  (see  article  on  Sewers 
and  Drains).  In  the  fall  of  1871  Mr.  Tappan 
was  elected  county  judge  for  a  term  of  six  years, 
and  in  1877  supreme  court  judge,  taking  his  seat 
on  the  bench  January  1,  1878,  where  he  served, 
and  very  creditably,  the  full  term  of  fourteen 
years. 

He  assisted  in  the  organization  and  construc 
tion  of  the  Clarkson  Memorial  School  of  Tech 
nology,  and  on  December  18,  1894,  was  elected 
president  of  the  provisional  board  of  trustees, 
which  position  he  held  till  his  death. 

Mr.  Tappan  stood  fully  six  feet  in  height, 
weighed  over  two  hundred  pounds,  and  was  a 
strong,  able-bodied  man.  He  was  modest  and  re 
tiring  by  nature,  and  the  very  soul  of  honor, 
probity  and  upright  manliness.  In  these  quali 
ties  I  think  he  certainly  equalled  any  man  I  ever 
knew,  either  in  business  or  professional  life.  His 
honesty  was  a  part  of  his  very  being.  He  could 
not,  and  would  not,  do  a  wrongful  act  for  him 
self  nor  for  a  client.  On  one  occasion  he  was 
sought  by  a  client  to  do  as  a  lawyer  a  wrongful 
act,  when  he  became  furious,  threatening  the 
man  with  bodily  harm.  As  a  lawyer  he  espoused 


Judge  Charles  0.  Tappan  159 

his  client's  cause  and  no  lawyer  ever  labored 
more  assiduously  and  unsparingly  in  a  client's 
behalf. 

Believing  he  was  in  the  right,  he  became  in 
domitable,  showing  almost  bull  dog  qualities,  and 
yet  he  was  one  of  the  most  gentle  and  tender 
hearted  men  that  I  have  ever  known.  On  telling 
him  a  sad  and  pitiful  story,  of  some  great  dis 
tress  or  misfortune,  the  tears  would  trickle  down 
his  cheeks  like  that  of  a  woman.  He  was  a  thor 
oughly  honest  man,  and  was  grieved  and  pained 
when  any  he  knew  were  shown  to  be  dishonest  or 
tricky  or  culpable.  I  loved  him  for  his  great  and 
sterling  qualities,  both  of  head  and  heart,  and  I 
gladly  write  these  feeble  lines  as  my  tribute  to  his 
memory. 

The  writer  entered  his  office,  as  a  student,  in 
1871,  and  remained  with  him  the  greater  part  of 
the  time  for  three  years,  sitting  opposite  to  him 
when  he  was  not  in  his  library.  He  was  the 
hardest  working  man,  while  a  lawyer,  that  I  ever 
knew  in  any  walk  or  sphere  of  life,  and  I  am  told 
that  he  kept  this  up  during  his  fourteen  years 
as  Judge.  There  was  no  fooling  or  chit-chat 
from  the  moment  he  entered  his  office  in  the 
morning  till  he  left  it  late  in  the  evening.  He 
worked  with  great  earnestness  and  deep  inten 
sity.  He  poured  his  very  soul  into  whatever  he 
undertook,  be  it  study,  a  law  trial  or  a  municipal 
movement  or  question.  Earnestness,  honesty  and 
indomitable  energy  were  his  great  characteris- 


160  Letters-Essays 


tics.  His  intense  study  impressed  its  work  in 
later  years  upon  his  face,  giving  him  the  polished 
and  refined  look  of  the  student.  He  despised  de 
ceit  and  would  violently  assail  those  committing 
wrongs,  especially  if  holding  positions  of  trust 
and  confidence.  In  his  eyes  the  betrayal  of  a 
duty  or  a  trust  was  a  crime. 

When  his  term  of  judgeship  was  about  to  ex 
pire  he  earnestly  desired  a  re-election.  This  was, 
of  course,  very  natural.  Having  been  on  the 
bench  for  fourteen  years,  his  clientage  had  all 
gone  to  others,  and  it  would  require  some  time, 
with  great  effort,  to  recover  it.  He  was  as 
sured,  as  I  am  credibly  informed,  by  the  poli 
ticians  of  his  judicial  district,  that  he  would 
have  no  trouble  in  a  renomination. 

As  to  the  truth  of  this  I  cannot  speak,  though 
early  in  the  canvas  it  was  pretty  generally  so 
understood.  If  it  was  true  then  they  changed 
their  minds  since  in  a  prolonged  convention,  even 
adjourned  to  another  locality  in  the  district,  they 
stubbornly  refused  their  support.  During  all  the 
contest  not  a  charge  of  any  kind,  nor  an  insinua 
tion  or  even  a  whisper  was  heard  or  uttered  cast 
ing  a  suspicion  upon  his  capability,  integrity  or 
character.  These  stood  out  unquestioned  and  un 
assailable.  No,  it  was  not  a  question  of  character 
or  ability,  but  purely  one  of  politics,  and  in  the 
struggle,  as  is  often  the  case  when  politics  enter, 
a  just  judge  went  down.  His  life  as  a  man,  as 
a  citizen  and  as  a  judge  bespoke  for  him  a  re- 


Judge  Charles  0.  Tappan,  161 

nomination.  He  was  in  every  way  worthy  of  it, 
entitled  to  it  and  should  have  had  it. 

On  his  defeat  he  resumed  the  practice  of  law 
alone,  January  1,  1892,  and  continued  it  quite 
successfully  till  the  time  of  his  death. 

He  was  a  friend  'of  every  just  cause  and 
worthy  movement,  and  was  a  gentle  and  loving 
husband  and  parent.  He  worked  faithfully  and 
hard  till  near  the  very  close.  And  as  the  end 
crept  upon  him  he  was  not  sick.  He  had  no  dis 
ease.  He  did  not  die.  Being  weary  from  un 
ceasing  toil,  the  mechanism  of  his  head  and  body 
simply  stopped,  when,  using  his  "  burthen  for  a 
pillow,"  he  fell  asleep — tired  out  from  doing  the 
best  that  was  in  him.  Noble  man.  His  was  a 
brave  spirit. 

He  died  August  20,  1895,  leaving  a  widow, 
Sarah  A.,  daughter  of  Dr.  Henry  Hewitt,  and  four 
children. 


Ibon.  Erasmus  2).  Brooks 


T  his  home  on  Elm  street,  November  13, 
1897,  at  11  p.  m.,  Mr.  Brooks  fell  into 
that  slumber  which  we  call  death.    The 
time  of  his  going  was  quite  in  keeping 
with  his  matured  years. 

He  died  as  the  oak  dieth,  rounded  and  perfected 
with  a  full  life,  complete  in  all  its  parts,  and 
with  all  its  labors,  duties  and  burdens  faithfully 
and  honorably  borne. 

He  was  a  son  of  Dr.  Hosea  Brooks  and  Phoebe 
Post  and  was  born  March  6,  1818,  at  Shoreham, 
Vt.  His  parents  came  into  these  parts  in  1819 
and  settled  in  Hopkinton,  about  a  mile  west  of 
Hopkinton  village  and  in  or  near  the  present 
residence  of  Loren  Smith.  Here  they  remained 
for  five  years,  when  they  removed  to  the  town 
of  Stockholm.  After  a  sojourn  there  of  three 
and  one-half  years  they  removed  to  the  village 
of  Parishville.  At  this  place  Mr.  Brooks,  the 
elder,  in  addition  to  his  practice  as  a  physician, 
kept  a  general  country  store  in  which  the  son  as 
sisted,  more  or  less,  as  clerk.  He  attended  school 
at  the  old  St.  Lawrence  Academy  and  in  Middle- 
bury  college,  where  he  only  completed  the  soph 
omore  year. 


HON.    ERASMUS   D.    BROOKS 


Hon.  Erasmus  D.  Brooks  163 

In  1839,  yet  a  minor,  he  opened  a  general  store 
on  his  own  account,  but  owing  to  his  minority, 
had  to  do  business  for  a  time  in  his  father's 
name.  In  1857  he  was  elected  member  of  the 
Assembly  for  the  third  district  of  this  county. 
In  1858  he  removed  to  the  village  of  Potsdam, 
buying  the  place  where  he  has  since  resided  of 
A.  M.  Smith  for  $2,500. 

In  1862,  when  the  Civil  war  had  gotten  under 
full  sway,  Mr.  Brooks  received  the  appointment 
from  President  Lincoln  of  collector  of  internal 
revenue  for  the  nineteenth  congressional  dis 
trict,  which  office  he  held  for  over  thirteen  years, 
resigning  to  take  effect  January  1,  1876. 

In  1866  he  went  into  the  dry  goods  business 
with  H.  M.  Story,  the  firm  name  being  Brooks 
&  Story,  which  continued  for  about  three  years, 
when  he  sold  out  to  Mr.  Story. 

In  1870,  in  conjunction  with  Dr.  Thatcher  and 
Mr.  J.  W.  Dayton,  the  present  block  of  three 
stores  on  the  west  side  of  Market  street  was  built, 
Mr.  Brooks  owning  the  northerly  one.  In  the 
fall  of  that  year  he  opened  a  dry  goods  store 
and  then,  or  soon  afterwards,  he  associated 
Charles  B.  Partridge  and  E.  D.  Brooks,  Jr.,  with 
him,  the  firm  name  being  Brooks,  Patridge  & 
Company.  This  firm  continued  for  some  years, 
when  he  became  sole  proprietor  by  purchase.  In 
December,  1891,  wishing  to  be  freed  from  busi 
ness  cares,  he  sold  to  Glover  &  Orne. 

He  held  the  office  of  supervisor  of  the  town 


164  Letters-Essays 


of  Parishville  for  three  or  four  years  from  1848, 
and  for  the  town  of  Potsdam  for  the  years  1878, 
'79,  '80  and  '81. 

He  was  a  justice  of  the  peace,  trustee  of  the 
village  for  several  years  and  also  one  of  the 
building  committee  of  the  State  Normal  School. 

On  December  28,  1895,  Mr.  Brooks  slipped  and 
fell  on  an  icy  walk  in  front  of  Mr.  Raymond's, 
breaking  the  socket  bone  of  the  hip.  From  this 
he  was  confined  to  his  bed  for  some  months. 
Having  a  good  constitution  he  recovered  suf 
ficiently  to  get  about  the  house  with  a  crutch. 

On  taking  a  ride  about  the  village  a  few  days 
before  his  death  he  took  a  little  cold,  which  rap 
idly  carried  him  away. 

In  1841  Mr.  Brooks  married  Permelia  Sanford 
of  Hopkinton.  Of  this  union  six  children  were 
born,  but  one  of  whom,  Mrs.  William  A.  Landers, 
widow,  is  now  living.  She,  with  her  daughter, 
Miss  Margaret  Landers,  a  lovely  girl  in  her  teens, 
are  alone  left  to  mourn  a  father's  going.  They 
have  the  sympathy  of  one  and  all. 

Mrs.  Brooks  was  a  most  estimable  lady,  pos 
sessing  many  of  the  graces  and  traits  of  noble 
womanhood.  She  died  October  16,  1886,  and 
their  three  sons,  to  wit,  Erasmus,  Jr.,  October  10, 
1885;  William  H.,  January  12,  1887,  and  Henry 
Gurley  Brooks,  October  20,  1891,  the  latter  leav 
ing  a  widow,  Cynthia  Everett  Brooks. 

A  gleam  of  the  man  in  after  life  is  shown  by 
the  boy  of  twenty,  taking  the  store  which  his 


Eon.  Erasmus  D.  Brooks  165 

father  had  made  of  only  doubtful  thrift  and  at 
once  making  it  a  decided  success.  In  the  twenty 
years  that  he  was  a  merchant  at  Parishville,  not 
withstanding  it  was  but  a  hamlet  and  there  were 
other  merchants  to  divide  the  trade,  he  made 
what  would  even  now  be  called  a  competence.  In 
those  times  the  farmers  were  poor  and  had  but 
little  or  no  money.  Almost  all  they  hoped  to 
get  was  enough  to  pay  their  taxes.  Pretty  much 
all  the  dealing  was  in  barter.  The  merchant  took 
beef,  pork,  grain,  etc.,  in  exchange  for  goods. 
These  he  must  in  some  way  convert  into  cash  or 
more  goods;  else  his  capital  would  soon  consist 
alone  of  this  class  of  property.  Mr.  Brooks  soon 
found  a  market  for  it  all,  and  he  was  ready  to 
trade  with  every  one  and  with  all,  making  a  mar 
gin  both  ways.  For  a  time  about  the  only 
product  which  would  bring  cash  was  black  salts. 
Asheries  were  scattered  all  through  the  country. 

Nearly  every  one  was  clearing  land  and  there 
fore  had  ashes  to  sell,  many  of  them  even  falling 
timber  for  that  purpose.  Mr.  Brooks,  besides 
dealing  in  black  salts,  conducted  an  ashery, 
whkh  further  extended  his  field  as  a  merchant. 

In  his  first  years  as  a  merchant  he  went  to 
market  once  and  sometimes  twice  a  year  by  stage 
over  a  plank  road  to  Utica,  by  packet  boat  on 
canal  from  there  to  Albany,  and  thence  by  boat 
to  New  York  City. 

While  in  Parishville  he  was  the  leader  of  the 
Whig  forces.  His  town  was  one  of  the  few 


166  Letters-Essays 

towns  of  that  faith  in  the  county  and  it  was  only 
so  through  his  persistent  and  untiring  labor. 
The  methods  then  often  resorted  to  in  carrying 
primaries  and  elections  would  hardly  be  tolerated 
today. 

After  coming  to  this  village  he  took  high  rank 
as  a  justice  of  the  peace.  Had  he  studied  for 
the  law  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  he 
would  have  reached  high  eminence  as  a  lawyer 
and  jurist.  Indeed,  I  do  think  he  possessed  more 
native  ability,  sagacity,  good  sense  and  good 
judgment  than  almost  any  man  I  ever  knew.  He 
stood  fully  six  feet,  carried  himself  well  and  had 
a  strong,  intellectual  face. 

While  collector  of  internal  revenue,  and 
especially  during  the  war,  a  vast  amount  of 
money  passed  through  his  hands.  The  commuta 
tion  money  alone  was  enormous.  His  district 
comprised  St.  Lawrence  and  Franklin  Counties. 
An  incident  in  his  service  as  collector  shows  the 
system,  accuracy  and  methodical  way  with  which 
he  did  business  better  than  anything  I  can  say. 
For  some  time  after  his  resignation  took  effect 
the  Treasury  department  at  "Washington  kept 
sending  him  a  formal  demand  at  the  close  of 
each  quarter  for  the  payment  of  one  cent  to  bal 
ance  his  account  as  collector  for  thirteen  years. 
To  this  request  Mr.  Brooks  would  as  often  de 
cline,  saying  to  the  department  that  his  account 
was  correct.  After  many  demands  and  refusals 
had  passed  between  them  the  department  sent 


Hon.  Erazmu*  D.  Brooks  167 

him  a  formal  apology,  stating  that  they  had 
found  the  error,  how  it  arose  and  a  receipt  and 
discharge  in  fnlL 

From  the  organization  of  the  republican  party 
he  was  one  of  its  most  stalwart  supporters  and 
adherents.  His  fealty  to  that  party  and  its 
principles,  coupled  with  his  positive  nature  and 
strong  individuality,  made  him  for  years  one  of 
its  most  influential  members. 

Any  democrat  who  provoked  him  to  a  discus 
sion  was  sure  to  retire,  surprised,  chagrined,  a 
badly  worsted  combatant.  His  powers  of  sar 
casm  and  invective  when  once  fully  aroused,  as 
they  only  were  over  politics,  excelled  those  of 
any  man  in  my  remembrance.  He  had  but  few 
of  these  combats  during  his  last  years,  as  no  one 
who  knew  him  had  the  temerity  to  attack  him  or 
his  party. 

His  memory  of  men  and  women,  names,  ages, 
dates,  etc.,  was  most  remarkable.  He  somehow 
kept  track  of  nearly  everyone  he  ever  knew. 
Every  now  and  then  he  would  meet  someone  he 
had  not  seen  for  years  and  in  the  conversa 
tion  that  would  follow  would  show  equal  or 
greater  familiarity  with  the  incidents  of  the 
party's  boyhood  and  family  than  he  himself  knew. 
He  was  at  all  times  and  in  all  ways  a  force,  a 
power.  He  possessed  that  subtle  quality  which 
we  may  call  prescience,  given  only  to  the  few, 
which  made  him  a  strong  character,  a  leader.  He 
had  and  held  the  respect  and  esteem  of  all  who 


168  Letters-Essays 


knew  him.  He  lived  a  sober,  manly  life.  Whether 
we  are  now  raising  men  of  his  stamp  in  these 
times  of  ease  and  comfort  is  a  matter  of  some 
doubt. 

With  his  going  the  name  of  his  family  disap 
peared. 


JEramination  of  "peel 


" 


'  WILLEY»  universally  called  Peel  Wil- 
ley,  was  fully  six  feet  in  height,  a  strong, 
heavy,  muscular  man  with  a  firm,  reso 
lute  face,  a  shoemaker  by  trade,  and  not 
at  all  lacking  in  cheek  or  courage.    He  seemed  to 
like  litigation  or,  at  least,  not  to  shun  it. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  up  before  me  as  Ref 
eree  on  a  Judge's  order.  This  is  generally  sup 
posed  to  be  a  pretty  harsh  proceeding,  since  the 
poor  debtor  has  to  sit  and  be  quizzed  to  all 
lengths  as  to  his  property.  Sometimes  he  is  by 
some  lawyers  browbeaten  and  abused.  At  this 
time  John  G.  Mclntyre  was  the  attorney.  Though 
a  hard  job,  I  rather  courted  the  inquiry  to  see 
how  the  struggle  or  battle  would  come  out,  for 
such  I  knew  it  would  be.  Mr.  Mclntyre  was  an 
intelligent  man,  firm,  resolute,  determined,  and 
not  at  all  lacking  in  moral  or  physical  courage. 
We  took  our  seats  at  the  table,  Mr.  Mclntyre 
facing  Mr.  Willey  and  myself.  Mr.  Willey  was 
sworn  to  tell  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  etc.  I 
can  give  only  samples  of  what  took  place.  Could 
it  have  been  taken  down  it  would  easily  make  a 
newspaper  page,  and  most  spicy  reading  at  that. 


170  Letters-Essays 


Mr.  Willey  at  once  filled  a  cob  pipe  and  after 
lighting  many  matches,  talking  all  the  while,  got 
the  pipe  going,  and  placing  his  big  feet  across 
one  another  up  on  the  table  began  about  like  this : 

"  Now,  Mr.  Mclntyre,  I  want  you  to  be  kind 
and  gentle  with  me  today.  You  have  got  the 
reputation  of  being  harsh  and  cruel  with  poor 
debtors  and  even  of  tearing  them  all  to  pieces. 
Now  for  God's  sake  be  easy  with  me.  I  haven't 
slept  much  of  any  since  this  order  was  served  on 
me.  I  am  nervous  and  all  worn  out,  dreading  this 
examination.  See  how  pale  I  am  and  how  my 
hands  tremble  (holding  them  up  shaking  percep 
tibly).  I  am  so  poor  I  had  to  get  up  early  and 
walk  all  the  way  to  Potsdam  without  any  break 
fast.  Now  take  pity  on  me  or  at  least  be  as  easy 
as  you  can." 

"  Take  your  feet  down  and  stop  your  talk," 
sternly  spoke  Mr.  Mclntyre. 

"  There  you  go,  just  as  I  expected.  Why  can't 
you  speak  mildly  and  calmly  to  me  ?  If  you  knew 
how  it  jarred  on  my  nerves  you  wouldn't  speak 
so  harshly.  I  am  almost  dead,  and  yet  you  don't 
seem  to  have  any  pity." 

"  Take  your  feet  off  the  table.  Do  you  hear 
what  I  tell  you?  " 

* '  Yes,  I  do,  and  I  could  if  you  had  spoken  in  a 
whisper.  I  ain't  deaf  and  I  wish  you  wouldn't 
speak  so  harshly.  It  hurts  me.  I  put  my  feet  up 
there  to  take  the  blood  from  my  head,  which  is 
almost  bursting." 


Examination  of  "  Peel "  Willey  171 

Mr.  Mclntyre  becoming  somewhat  nettled,  said 
with  a  little  warmth:  "  Mr.  Keferee,  will  you 
please  direct  him  to  take  his  feet  down  and  make 
a  note  of  the  request  in  your  minutes?  "  It  was 
done. 

"  Now,  I  don't  see  what  hurt  those  feet  can  do 
up  there.  It  rests  me  and  if  you  knew  how  much 
better  I  can  think  you  wouldn't  ask  me  to  take 
them  down.  You  are  a  good  deal  smarter  than 
I  and  besides  you  have  got  me  down.  Why  can't 
you  let  me  take  a  little  comfort?  " 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  take  your  feet  down?  " 
again  Mr.  Mclntyre  sternly  asked,  partly  rising 
as  if  to  remove  them  himself. 

"  See  here,  Mr.  Mclntyre,  just  keep  your  seat. 
Don't  get  excited.  You  better  stay  on  your  side 
of  the  table.  I  know  some  of  my  rights.  You  lay 
a  hand  on  me  and  I'll  tie  a  knot  in  you.  If  you 
would  ask  me  pleasantly  to  take  them  down  I 
think  I  would  do  it,  but  you  can't  order  me  to 
do  it." 

Accordingly  Mr.  Mclntyre  made  a  mild  request 
that  he  take  them  down,  which  he  did,  adding 
that  he  would  like  him  to  lay  aside  his  pipe. 

11  What  next  will  you  ask?  I  am  smoking  to 
settle  my  nerves  and  to  stimulate  my  brain  for 
this  examination.  I  am  all  fagged  out.  I  can't 
think  or  answer  your  questions  if  I  don't  smoke. 
Don't  you  want  me  to  tell  the  truth?  " 

"  Yes,  I  certainly  do." 

"  Well,  then,  let  me  smoke." 


172  Letters-Essays 


1  i  I  will  if  you  will  stop  talking  and  just  answer 
my  questions/' 

After  an  hour  or  so  of  this  kind  of  play,  for 
such  it  was,  we  got  to  work.  Mr.  Mclntyre  asked 
him  to  name  all  the  property  he  had  at  the  time 
the  debt  in  question  was  created. 

"  Well,  now,  I  don't  know  as  I  can  do  that. 
When  was  the  debt  made?"  He  was  told. 
Mumbling  to  himself,  "  Two  years  ago,  what  did 
I  have.  Never  had  much  and  some  of  the  time 
not  anything." 

After  cogitating  with  his  head  in  his  hands  for 
some  time  trying  to  recall  the  past,  with  Mcln 
tyre  prodding  him  to  answer,  he  replied: 

"  Mr.  Mclntyre,  I  can't  tell  just  what  I  had  at 
that  particular  time.  It's  too  far  back  for  my 
tired  brain." 

"  Did  you  not  have  a  bay  gelding  horse  and  a 
top  carriage?  " 

"  Well,  I  did,  back  in  there  somewhere,  but  I 
can't  just  tell  when." 

"  What  became  of  the  horse  and  carriage?  " 

"  Let  me  see.  Don't  put  this  down,  Mr.  Eef- 
eree,  I've  got  to  think.  I  made  so  many  deals 
I  can't  keep  track  of  them.  I  am  not  going  to 
tell  anything  till  I  know  I  have  got  it  right,  and 
I  am  not  going  to  be  hurried  about  it,  either.  I 
can't  think  any  faster  than  I  can.  I  propose  to 
tell  it  just  as  it  was  if  it  takes  all  day." 

And  it  did.  When  it  came  night  we  were  all 
tired  of  the  whole  performance,  unless  it  was  Mr. 


Examination  of  "  Peel "  Willey  173 

Willey,  and  not  much  wiser  than  when  we  began. 
He  seemed  to  be  in  as  good  shape  as  when  we 
commenced.  Nothing  had  been  found  and  pos 
sibly  there  was  nothing  to  be  found.  The  case 
was  adjourned,  but  I  was  never  called  on  the  ad 
journment  day.  It  taught  me  that  Judge's  orders 
are  not  such  a  terrible  engine  after  all  if  one  has 
the  proper  nerve. 


Ibon*  John  <5* 


|R.  McINTYEE  was  born  December  1st, 
1839,  in  the  town  of  Massena,  N.  Y.  His 
father,  Angus  A.  Mclntyre,  was  a  native 
of  Scotland.  He  came  to  this  country 
about  1825.  The  early  life  of  Mr.  Mclntyre  was 
spent  with  his  parents  on  the  farm  in  Massena, 
where  he  was  born.  He  was  educated  in  the  dis 
trict  schools  of  his  town,  in  the  St.  Lawrence 
Academy  at  Potsdam,  from  which  he  was  gradu 
ated  in  1861.  He  then  entered  Middlebury  Col 
lege,  from  which  he  was  graduated  in  1865,  re 
ceiving  the  degrees  of  A.  B.  and  A.  M.  After 
graduating,  he  was  principal  of  the  academy  at 
Northfield,  Vt.,  for  one  year,  when  he  returned 
to  Potsdam  as  professor  of  mathematics  in  the 
old  St.  Lawrence  Academy,  for  a  little  over  a 
year,  studying  law  during  that  time  in  the  office 
of  Judge  Henry  L.  Knowles.  On  being  admitted 
to  the  bar,  in  1867,  he  entered  into  partnership 
with  Hon.  Abraham  X.  Parker,  under  the  firm 
name  of  Parker  &  Mclntyre.  This  firm  did  quite 
an  extensive  law  business  until  1881,  when  it  was 
dissolved,  owing  to  the  election  of  Mr.  Parker  as 
a  member  of  congress.  After  the  dissolution  of 


HON.  JOHN  G.  MoINTYRE 


Hon.  John  G.  Mclntyre  175 

the  firm,  Mr.  Mclntyre  continued  the  practice  of 
law  alone,  till  his  death. 

As  a  lawyer  he  was  quite  quick  to  see  the  main 
point  of  the  case,  and  fought  laboriously,  stub 
bornly  and  quite  successfully. 

In  court  he  was  a  most  tenacious  fighter,  and 
all  the  lawyers  the  country  about  feared  if  they 
did  not  dread  to  meet  him  in  justice  court.  They 
knew,  if  they  had  him  for  opposing  counsel,  they 
had  a  great  battle  before  them.  He  was,  if  oc 
casion  required,  quite  severe,  and  even  caustic, 
as  an  attorney.  In  the  higher  courts  he  did  not 
exhibit  this  quality  to  any  such  extent  as  he  did 
in  the  lower  courts.  In  the  latter  I  think  he  was 
the  most  successful  of  any  practicing  in  his  time 
unless,  perhaps,  I  except  John  E.  Brinckerhoof. 

He  was  not  what  would  be  called  an  orator  or 
polished  speaker.  He  cared  not  for  the  arts  of 
the  orator,  tone  of  voice,  poise  of  person, 
imagery  or  rounded  periods.  He  saw  the  main 
point  and  never  lost  it.  He  used  speech  to  win 
his  case  or  his  cause.  That  was  ever  his  pur 
pose,  and  to  it  he  gave  all  his  attention,  energy, 
fearlessness  and  combative  force.  People  liked 
to  hear  him  because  there  was  no  mistaking  his 
views,  and  because  he  was  so  brave  and  valiant. 

Another  characteristic,  probably  as  com 
mendable  as  any,  was  the  fact  that  he  never 
charged  a  client  an  excessive  or  an  exorbitant 
fee  for  his  services.  He  was  contented  with 
reasonable  pay  for  what  he  did,  nor  did  he  ever 


176  Letters-Essays 


take  advantage  of  opportunity  to  get  more,  so 
far  as  I  ever  heard. 

He  was  a  trustee  of  the  village,  and  in  1891 
its  president.  He  was  also  trustee  and  secre 
tary  of  the  State  Normal  School  Board,  which 
position  he  held  till  the  time  of  his  death,  March 
13,  1899.  On  the  organization  of  the  Public 
Beading  Eoom  in  1887  he  was  one  of  its  zealous 
friends  and  a  little  later  one  of  its  trustees  and 
treasurer.  He  was  also  secretary  of  the  Fair 
Society,  trustee  of  school  district  No.  8,  and 
active  in  the  construction  of  its  fine  building. 

In  1894  he  became  one  of  the  seven  original 
members  of  the  board  of  trustees  of  the  Clark- 
son  Memorial  School  of  Technology,  and  the  first 
president  of  the  board.  None  took  a  greater  in 
terest  in  the  establishment  of  this  school. 

He  was  duly  elected  a  member  of  the  Constitu 
tional  Convention,  which  sat  in  1894,  serving  on 
the  committees  on  Education  and  Railroads  with 
ability. 

In  1895  he  was  elected  trustee  of  Middlebury 
College.  He  held  the  position  of  vestryman  of 
the  Episcopal  Church  at  Potsdam  for  some  years 
and  at  the  time  of  his  death. 

In  all  municipal  matters  he  took  an  active  part, 
either  for  or  against  every  measure.  He  was  a 
man  of  most  decided  convictions  and  had  the 
courage  to  express  and  maintain  them  on  any  and 
every  occasion.  The  friends  of  any  movement 
would  seek  his  aid  and  assistance,  well  knowing 


Hon.  John  G.  Nclntyre  177 

that  if  he  was  against  them  he  would  give  them 
much  trouble.  But  their  seeking  and  their 
pleading  made  no  impression  upon  him,  if  his 
judgment  told  him  that  their  cause  should  not 
prevail.  Over  municipal  matters  and  measures 
he  would  fight  by  speech  as  earnestly  and  ve 
hemently  as  he  would  in  the  trial  of  a  suit,  and 
somehow,  when  he  formed  his  opinion  in  a  suit 
at  law,  or  on  a  public  measure,  he  could  not  see, 
feel  or  believe  that  his  opponent  had  any  right 
or  justice  on  his  side.  He  seemed  both  deaf  and 
blind  to  anything  but  his  client 's  cause,  and  they 
usually  got  what  they  asked,  or  nearly  so.  He 
made  no  compromises  or  adjustments  that  did  not 
bring  his  client  all,  or  practically  all,  he  claimed. 

Mr.  Mclntyre  was  fully  six  feet  in  height, 
rather  slim  of  build,  straight  as  an  arrow,  and 
carried  himself  with  ease  and  confidence.  Though 
not  expensively  dressed,  he  was  always  tidy,  tasty 
and  cleanly  in  his  appearance.  He  was  not  ex 
uberant  in  his  social  qualities  and  yet  sufficiently 
so  to  be  a  pleasing  and  entertaining  companion. 
His  office  was  always  in  a  most  cleanly  condition, 
all  of  his  papers  kept  in  place,  and  in  a  methodical 
way.  He  wasted  none  of  his  time  in  lounging  on 
the  street  or  in  other  places.  He  gave  his  en 
tire  time  to  his  office  and  its  work,  and  to  his 
home  and  gardens. 

He  was  an  upright  man,  a  most  loyal  advocate, 
a  good  citizen,  a  kind  neighbor,  and  a  most  de 
voted  and  loving  husband.  He  was  very  ab- 


178  Letters-Essays 


stemious  in  his  living,  clean  in  all  his  habits,  and 
led  a  most  exemplary  life.  He  gave  his  morn 
ings  and  his  evenings  to  his  lawn,  flowers,  of 
which  he  was  fond,  and  to  his  garden,  all  of 
which  were  ever  in  excellent  shape  and  con 
dition. 

No  home,  here  or  anywhere  had  a  sweeter  or 
more  wholesome  atmosphere  in  or  about  it. 

He  observed  and  followed  all  the  laws  of  diet 
and  health,  and  it  was  thought  by  his  friends 
that  he  would  certainly  live  to  a  ripe  old  age.  In 
the  fall  of  1898  he  became  more  or  less  ill,  al 
though  attending  to  his  office  duties  all  the  time. 

Early  in  the  winter  of  1899,  thinking  it  would 
benefit  him,  he  and  his  wife  went  to  California  to 
spend  a  few  months.  On  reaching  Long  Beach 
he  took  cold,  when  spinal  meningitis  soon  de 
veloped  and  took  him  suddenly  away.  His  going 
was  a  real  loss  to  the  community,  to  every 
worthy  cause,  and  a  particularly  sad  and  crush 
ing  blow  to  his  cherished  and  devoted  compan 
ion.  His  widow,  whom  he  married  in  1869,  Ame 
lia  M.,  daughter  of  the  late  L.  H.  Dunton  of 
Stockholm,  survives  him. 


.  jfaster 


|  HE  final  summons  that  must  come  to  all, 
came  to  Miss  Mary  P.  Foster,  daughter 
of  the  late  Edward  W.  Foster,  December 
27,  1899,  at  her  home  on  Elm  street, 
where  she  had  long  resided.  It  did  not  come  sud 
denly,  but  gently  and  softly,  as  if  regretful  to  call 
her  hence.  Not  that  her  life  was  incomplete  or 
she  not  ready  to  go,  since,  if  we  measure  life  by 
its  fullness,  by  its  richness  in  act  and  deed,  and 
surely  we  may,  the  angel  of  peace  could  call  no 
one  with  greater  right.  And  though  this  may 
be,  we  always  mourn  and  are  almost  comfortless 
in  our  grief  at  the  departure  of  one  we  love.  We 
would  stay  the  call,  postpone  the  hour,  so  strong 
are  human  ties  and  so  deep  human  affections, 
though  we  feel  and  almost  know  that  it  is  God's 
act  and  that  our  friend  is  to  enter  into  eternal 
joy.  It  must  be  right  that  this  is  so  or  it  would 
not  be.  We  cannot  fathom  the  mysteries  of  life; 
they  are  hidden  from  us,  and  this,  too,  is  well 
or  it  would  not  be.  If  we  could,  there  would 
be  no  longing,  no  yearning,  no  heart  burning. 
We  would  know  it  all  as  we  do  a  mathematical 
problem  and  life  would  be  void  of  much  of  its 
tenderness  and  sweetness. 


180  Letters-Essays 


We  live  in  the  fantasies,  the  beauties  and  the 
pleasures  of  a  dream,  a  picture  that  we  paint 
with  emotions,  affections  and  love.  It  is  not  a 
copy,  as  no  one  in  all  the  ages  has  been  per 
mitted  to  see  the  original.  Each  paints  this  pic 
ture  largely  for  himself,  since  its  coloring  and 
its  hues  are  the  work  of  our  own  dreaming. 
The  picture  which  she  of  whom  I  speak  had 
painted  was  one  of  great  beauty  and  splendor  and 
it  was  her  constant  support  and  comfort  through 
life.  She  could  not  build  otherwise,  since,  by  a 
law  that  is  universal,  grapes  do  not  grow  on 
thistles,  nor  do  good  thoughts  or  deeds  spring 
from  coarse  or  impure  natures.  She  was  born 
kind  and  good.  Her  nature  was  as  sweet  and 
gentle  as  a  summer  zephyr. 

In  illness  and  in  health  the  same  placid  spirit 
encircled  her,  and  sweetened  and  brightened  all 
who  came  within  its  influence.  There  was  no  bit 
terness,  no  jealousy,  no  selfishness  in  her  nature. 
Her  heart  was  warm  and  kind  and  generous 
towards  all.  She  cared  little  for  the  frivolities, 
vanities  or  dazzling  splendor  of  high  social  life; 
her  heart  was  always  with  the  poor  and  lowly. 
For  years  she  had  grown  and  gathered  flowers, 
collected  magazines  and  periodicals  from  gen 
erous  and  kindly  neighbors,  boxed  and  shipped 
them  to  hospitals  and  soldiers'  homes.  It  was 
not  much  in  dollars,  perhaps,  but  who  can  meas 
ure  the  joy  and  gladness  which  she  gave  these 
poor  children  of  sickness,  misery  and  pain.  To 


Mary  P.  Foster  181 


be  remembered,  to  feel  that  some  one  cares  for 
you  sufficiently  to  send  you  a  rose  when  sick  and 
friendless,  awakens  emotions  and  thrills  the  soul 
beyond  any  measure  of  value.  Nor  did  she 
neglect  or  overlook  the  poor  and  unfortunate  in 
her  home  vicinity.  To  these  she  was  ministering 
and  giving  to  the  extent  of  her  means.  Her  life 
was  one  of  charity  and  there  is  no  sweeter  or 
nobler  life  than  this.  It  is  the  greatest  of  hu 
man  virtues.  Without  it  we  are  cold,  sordid  and 
selfish.  She  made  none  and,  therefore,  had  no  ene 
mies.  She  could  not.  Her  nature  was  too  gen 
erous,  too  charitable  and  loving.  All  who  knew 
her  loved  her.  Hers  was  a  gentle  and  sweet 
spirit. 


En  ©utino  Ifn  Ganaba 


ECEIVTNG  recently  a  kind  invitation  to 
accompany  Dr.  James  S.  McKay  and 
Dr.  Reynold  M.  Kirby,  with  some  Cana 
dian  friends,  on  a  fishing  trip  to  the  in 
terior  of  Canada,  and  not  knowing  very  much  of 
that  country,  and  being  assured  that  it  would  do 
me  worlds  of  good,  I  packed  up  at  once  and  we 
started  the  next  morning,  July  20,  1900,  reach 
ing  Kazubazua,  some  fifty  miles  north  of  Ottawa, 
that  evening.  With  such  an  escort  I  was  the 
more  readily  induced  to  accept,  since  with  a 
physician  and  a  minister  in  the  party,  both 
physical  and  spiritual  needs  and  ailments  could 
and  would  be  cured,  or  at  least  attended  to  on 
the  spot.  It  is  not  often  that  a  party  of  this  kind 
is  so  well  fortified  and  equipped,  but,  from  my  ex 
perience,  I  am  not  so  certain  but  that  they  all 
should  be.  In  case  -a  party  cannot  get  or  take 
both  I  am  further  in  grave  doubt  as  to  which  is 
the  more  essential.  Both  are  certainly  need 
ful.  Camp  life,  as  those  who  'have  been  in  the 
woods  know,  brings  out  the  good  qualities  there 

"This  article  appeared  in  The  Courier  and  Freeman  as 
three  letters  and  is  Riven  here  in  that  form. 


An  Outing  In  Canada  183 

are  in  you  and,  I  am  constrained  to  say,  all  the 
little  ones.  The  natural  man,  what  you  really 
are,  stands  out  here  and  you  can't  hide  or  en 
cumber  it  as  you  can  at  home  with  the  frills, 
prestige,  pomp  and  circumstance  of  cultivated 
life. 

This  was  my  second  experience  camping  in  the 
woods.  Twenty-three  years  ago  (August,  1877), 
George  Z.  Erwin,  John  G.  Mclntyre,  George  L. 
Eastman,  Theo.  H.  Swift,  Dr.  Henry  M.  Cox  and 
myself  camped  for  a  week  at  the  foot  of  Moose- 
head  on  the  Eacket.  That  party,  as  you  see, 
had  a  doctor  only,  no  minister,  and  I  have  felt 
all  these  years  that  there  was  something  want 
ing,  something  we  lacked  or,  perhaps,  I  should 
say  needed,  but  could  never  quite  determine  what 
till  this  late  trip. 

And  now,  as  I  write  these  lines,  I  am  reminded 
that  just  one-half  of  that  party  has  fallen  into 
that  wakeless  and  dreamless  sleep  which  awaits 
us  all.  *The  other  half,  too,  has  crossed  the  sum 
mit  and  can  faintly  see  the  bewitching  and  flick 
ering  twilight  at  the  foot  of  the  slope,  through 
and  beyond  which  our  comrades  have  gone.  But 
I  am  digressing.  A  homily  on  death  is  hardly 
appropriate  in  an  article  of  this  kind,  and  I  trust 
my  readers  will  pardon  me  for  what  I  have  said. 
Come  to  write  their  names,  I  could  not  help  it. 

*Dr  Cox  died  April  24,  1904,  leaving  of  the  party,  only 
Judge  Swift  and  the  writer. 


184  Letters-Essays 


Let  us  get  back  to  Ottawa  and  take  the  train. 
I  will  try  to  speak  of  the  city  on  our  return.  The 
road  crosses  the  Ottawa  Eiver  just  above  the  falls, 
and  runs  due  north  sixty  miles,  and  most  of  the 
way  along  the  banks  of  the  Gatineau  Eiver,  a  very 
considerable  stream  indeed.  At  the  present  time 
I  would  judge  there  is  ten  times  the  amount  of 
water  flowing  in  it  that  there  is  in  the  Racket. 
There  are  heavy  waterfalls  all  along  its  course, 
I  am  told.  We  saw  three  entirely  unused,  the 
first  of  which  is  only  seven  miles  above  Ottawa. 
Why  it  is  not  developed  is  more  than  I  can  see, 
unless  it  be  that  they  have  so  much  power  at  Ot 
tawa  that  no  one  thinks  of  going  elsewhere.  The 
soil  for  thirty  miles  up  the  road,  to  my  surprise, 
is  a  rich,  heavy  clay.  What  we  saw  did  not  look 
as  if  it  was  well  farmed,  or  the  people  very  pros 
perous.  The  buildings,  for  the  most  part,  are 
rather  poor  and  the  farms  seem  to  be  patches  of 
tilled  soil  here  and  there  in  the  bushes  and  woods. 
Back  from  the  river,  I  was  told,  there  were  some 
good  farms.  I  see  no  reason  why  there  should 
not  be  with  such  a  soil.  The  timber  is  all  a  sec 
ond  growth  pine  or  a  bush  growth.  Very  large 
pine  stumps  may  be  seen  everywhere.  When  in 
its  native  state  it  must  have  been  a  heavily  pine- 
timbered  country. 

As  we  approach  Kazubazua  our  train  destina 
tion,  the  soil  changes  from  clay  to  sand.  At  this 
point  there  is  a  mighty  sand  plain,  with  medium 
mountains  surrounding,  excepting  on  the  south, 


An  Outing  In  Canada  185 

covered  with  low  bushes,  and  dead,  barkless  and 
limbless  standing  pine  everywhere,  as  sentinels 
of  better  days,  defying  the  axe,  fire  and  even  time 
itself.  Portions  of  this  plain  are  overrun  by  fire 
every  year,  thus  keeping  it  in  its  present  deso 
late  state.  Huckleberries  are  everywhere  over  it 
and  picked  and  shipped  in  large  quantities. 

Beaching  Kazubazua  station,  we  take  stage  for 
the  village,  if  such  it  may  be  called,  two  miles 
distant,  where  we  put  up  for  the  night.  What  a 
name!  But  it  fits  the  village.  Pronounce  it  and 
you  may  have  lockjaw.  It  is  'an  Indian  name 
and  means  "  water  running  underground,"  as  a 
smart  brook  here  does  in  good  shape,  appearing 
again  some  distance  below. 

Being  a  little  delayed,  the  two  doctors  rigged 
up  and  went  trout  fishing  in  this  brook  the  next 
morning,  but  with  rather  poor  luck,  due,  they 
maintained,  to  the  fact  that  the  fish  had  gone 
underground,  to  get  out  of  the  sun.  While  they 
were  fishing  I  rambled  about,  getting  into  a  saw 
mill,  grist  mill  and  carding  mill  all  attached.  The 
latter  was  in  the  rear  and  I  came  near  missing 
it,  which  would  have  been  a  great  misfortune,  as 
I  there  learned  the  true  cause  of  the  Boer  war. 
Seeing  a  fine,  pleasant  faced,  elderly  man  attend 
ing  the  machine,  probably  a  Presbyterian,  I 
walked  in  and  was  greeted  cordially.  We  at  once 
got  into  a  pleasant  conversation,  which  I  led 
along  to  the  Boer  war.  At  this  his  face  lighted 
up,  showing  some  spirit,  similar  to  that  of  some 


186  Letters-Essays 

of  our  home  Canadians,  and  so  I  saw  it  was  best 
to  go  a  little  slow.  I  did  not  assert  anything, 
simply  putting  everything  in  the  form  of  an  in 
quiry.  "  Then  you  think,"  I  inquired,  "  that 
the  British  are  in  the  right  in  their  war  on  the 
Boers,  that  their  cause  is  just?  "  Leaving  his 
machine  and  coming  towards  me,  he  remarked 
with  some  warmth:  "  Why,  of  course  I  do.  I 
know  they  are  in  the  right.  Don 't  you  think  so  ?  " 
"  Well,"  meekly  answering,  "  I  don't  know  as 
I  do  know  it.  Very  likely  we  of  the  States  are 
not  so  well  informed  as  to  the  causes  that  brought 
on  the  war  as  you  are.  I  wish  you  would  tell  me 
what  the  Boers  did,  what  the  real  cause  of  the 
war  was."  To  this  he  replied  with  some  feeling 
and  great  sincerity:  "  I'll  tell  you  what  they  did. 
They  treated  our  people  over  there  shamefully, 
like  dogs.  When  it  was  rainy  and  muddy,  those 
Boers  would  get  on  the  sidewalks  and  push  and 
drive  our  people  off,  making  them  walk  in  the 
roadway  in  the  mud.  What  do  you  think  of  that? 
Would  you  stand  it  or  anyone  else?  I  guess  not." 
"  Well,"  I  replied,  "  that  was  pretty  mean.  I 
never  heard  of  it,"  "  No,"  he  broke  in  rather 
disdainfully,  "  probably  your  papers  would  not 
print  it." 

Thus,  in  a  little  carding  mill,  away  back  in 
Canada,  accidentally  as  it  were,  I  learned  the 
real,  true  cause  of  that  great  struggle  of  the 
British  empire  to  dominate  South  Africa.  This 
alone  was  surely  worth  all  the  time  and  expense 


An  Outing  In  Canada,  187 

of  the  trip  and  more,  too,  and  I  hasten  to  give  it 
to  the  world.  I  doubt  if  I  should  have  written 
this  article  but  to  divulge  this  great  piece  of  in 
formation.  Who  can  criticise  the  British  after 
reading  this? 

There  are  some  mica  mines  in  the  hills  about 
Kazubazua  and,  of  course,  considerable  prospect 
ing.  One  mine  has  been  worked  for  ten  years  or 
so  and  has  proved  very  valuable.  On  exploring, 
however,  the  most  of  them  prove  worthless.  I 
was  shown  a  piece  about  eight  by  ten  inches, 
three-quarters  of  an  inch  thick,  which,  they  said, 
was  worth  nine  dollars,  and  would  be  worth  more 
but  for  a  crack  in  it. 

The  doctors,  after  wearying  of  fishing  in  the 
creek,  and  they  did  not  till  patience  had  ceased 
to  be  a  virtue,  came  back  to  the  store,  and  we 
began  buying  supplies  for  our  trip  into  camp. 
I  was  worried,  I  can  tell  you.  I  supposed  till  then 
there  would  be  a  hotel  we  could  lodge  in.  They 
had  told  me  nothing  as  to  accommodations.  My 
first  impulse  was  to  go  with  a  mica  mine  pro 
prietor  to  his  mines,  but  when  I  learned  that  I 
would  have  to  climb  a  mountain  at  an  angle  of 
about  sixty  degrees  and  that  his  knees  had  about 
played  out  climbing  it,  I  gave  up  and  fell  in  to 
make  the  best  of  it,  and  I  did. 

We  bought  chairs,  blankets,  eggs,  bacon,  bread, 
sugar,  tea,  etc.  All  stores  back  in  Canada  keep 
Ottawa  bread.  They  dump  ithe  loaves,  un 
wrapped,  off  at  every  station.  I  did  not  ask  any 


188  Letters-Essays 


questions,  but  I  could  see  by  what  they  were 
buying  that  there  couldn't  be  much  in  the  camp, 
that  it  must  be  rather  an  inhospitable  place. 
Loaded  up,  we  drove  westerly  some  nineteen 
miles  over  a  sandy  plain  and  a  very  good  road, 
except  the  last  three  miles.  We  did  not  see  or 
pass  a  dwelling  in  the  first  eight  or  ten  miles,  and 
only  a  very  few  during  the  whole  trip.  I  judge 
the  sand  soil  would  produce  crops  for  a  few 
years,  if  cultivated,  the  same  as  did  the  sand 
about  Colton  and  Parishville.  On  nearly  reach 
ing  our  destination,  crossing  a  swampy  place  in 
the  woods,  our  wagon  slightly  played  out,  and 
there  we  were.  Dr.  McKay,  his  brother  Hiram 
and  the  teamster,  on  examination,  saw  that  they 
could  repair  it,  and  so  urged  Dr.  Kirby  and 
myself  to  take  the  gun  and  go  into  camp.  We 
hesitated,  just  a  little,  as  it  did  not  look  quite 
fair  to  go  on  and  leave  them,  but  while  we  were 
reflecting  the  mosquitoes  did  not.  They  came  at 
us  out  of  that  swamp  in  droves.  It  was  awful. 
They  acted  as  if  they  had  not  seen  a  gentle,  suc 
culent,  Christian  being  out  looking  for  health 
and  a  good  time,  before  this  summer.  They  sung 
about  our  heads  and  bit  us  in  the  most  eager 
and  persistent  fashion.  I  can't  say  as  to  Dr. 
Kirby,  but  I  can  for  myself,  that  they  helped 
me  to  make  up  my  mind  what  to  do,  and  I  didn't 
go  alone.  Reaching  the  river  and  finding  a  boat, 
we  crossed  over  to  a  pleasant  knoll,  where  stands 
the  log  cabin  which  wais  to  be  our  abiding  place 


An  Outing  In  Canada  189 

for  a  week.  We  were  soon  joined  by  the  rest  of 
the  party.  There  we  found  Mr.  Guy  E.  Robinson 
and  wife  of  New  York  City,  who  had  just  pre 
ceded  us.  We  prevailed  on  them  to  use  the  board 
shanty  near  by,  and  make  common  lot  with  us, 
which  they  did,  much  to  our  advantage  and  com 
fort.  And  now  I  have  got  you  into  camp.  I  have 
been  so  slow  about  it  that  I  have  exhausted  my 
time  and  space.  I  can  do  no  more  now.  If  the 
spirit  moves  me,  and  you  can  spare  the  space,  I 
will  try  and  give  you  in  a  later  issue  our  experi 
ence  camping  in  the  woods. 

n. 

I  promised  in  my  last  letter  that  if  the  spirit 
moved  me  I  would  give  you  an  account  of  our 
camp  life.  I  am  not  very  sure  what  it  is,  but 
something  is  moving  me,  for  I  find  myself  with 
pencil  in  hand.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  it  is  a  good 
spirit,  for  I  shall  need  much  help  to  give  you, 
with  a  pen,  anything  like  a  real  picture  of  the 
experiences  of  camp  life.  That  can  come — you 
can  only  get  that — from  actual  camping.  So,  at 
best,  anything  I  can  say  can  only  be  an  apology 
for  the  reality.  With  this  understanding  we  will 
see  what  sort  of  a  spirit  is  nagging  me  to  this 
undertaking. 

Well,  in  that  letter  I  succeeded,  after  a  fashion, 
in  getting  you  to  our  camp.  Let  us  first  take  a 
look  at  our  surroundings.  We  are  on  the  Picka- 


190  Letters-Essays 


nock  River,  about  the  size  of  the  Grasse  River. 
The  "  Pickanock  Fish  and  Game  Club  "  of  Ot 
tawa  has  preserved  it  for  five  miles  and  our  lodge 
is  about  midway.  The  stream,  for  the  whole 
length  of  the  preserve,  is  a  still  water  and  very 
similar  in  color  and  size  to  the  Bog  on  the  Racket. 
The  banks  are  low  and  the  timber  comes  to  the 
water's  edge  in  all  its  pristine  fullness,  excepting 
that  all  the  marketable  pine  has  been  cut  out.  Not 
a  spruce,  hemlock,  beech  or  maple  can  you  see 
or  find  in  all  these  woods.  The  tall,  dead  pine 
stand  over  it,  all  the  same,  as  back  on  the  plains. 
What  a  mighty  pine  forest  it  once  was!  Some 
lumbering  is  still  done  on  it  annually,  though 
only  a  fraction  of  what  was  formerly  done.  The 
timber  now  got  is  a  second  or  even  third  cut,  and 
logs  that  were  in  too  difficult  places  for  the  first 
jobbers  to  meddle  with.  The  river  empties  into 
the  Gatineau,  as  do  all  the  innumerable  lakes  and 
streams  in  this  northern  section.  There  is  not  a 
hut  or  cabin  the  whole  five  miles,  save  ours,  and 
only  two  or  three  places  where  one  could  be 
pleasantly  built.  'The  underbrush  has  been  cut  a 
little  on  one  side  of  our  cabin,  giving  us  some 
sunlight  and  making  the  spot  more  cheerful. 
More  should  be  cut,  that  the  wind  may  have  a 
sweep  at  the  mosquitoes. 

The  journey  in  tired  us  somewhat  and,  natu 
rally,  our  first  thoughts  were  for  something  to  eat. 
To  eat,  we  must  have  a  fire  and  a  fireplace.  Ac 
cordingly,  we  picked  stone  and  built  one  on  the 


An  Outing  In  Canada  191 

lawn,  just  as  they  did  two  or  three  thousand  years 
ago,  but  I  guess  we  had  better  cooking  utensils 
than  they  had,  due,  luckily,  to  meeting  Mr.  Rob 
inson,  with  his  twentieth  century  outfit.  But  for 
him,  I  judge,  we  would  have  been  about  on  a  par 
with  the  ancients.  The  guides,  directed  by  Mrs. 
Robinson,  a  brave  and  gentle  little  lady,  pre 
pared  our  supper,  as  they  did  all  our  meals. 
When  ready,  there  were  no  tea  bells  or  gongs  to 
rasp  the  ear.  We  were  all  there  and  on  hand. 
What  freedom — nay,  liberty,  and  what  simplicity! 
No  standing  about  the  table,  with  your  hand  on 
the  back  of  the  chair,  awaiting  the  nod  of  the 
hostess  to  move  in  rhythmic  unison  to  your  seats. 
Whoever  could,  got  at  the  table.  Whoever  could 
not,  sat  on  stumps,  trunks,  etc.  Some  had  hats 
on  and  some  no  coat  or  vest.  No  style  or  pomp 
or  ceremony  here.  Food  they  want  and  food  they 
are  bound  to  get.  After  all,  is  that  not  about 
all  there  is  of  it  at  any  table?  We  had  no  menu, 
no  ice  cream,  cake,  tarts  or  pie,  but  plenty  of 
bread,  butter,  eggs,  bacon,  etc.,  which  fit  a  woods 
appetite  much  better.  The  French  guides  bring 
the  pots  and  kettles  and  you  take  what  you  want, 
and  you  don't  feel  that  all  eyes  are  on  you 
watching  what  you  take.  In  the  woods  you  must 
eat  solid  food.  The  exercise,  good  air,  freedom 
and  want  of  sleep  seem  to  demand  it.  One  would 
<have  to  eat  all  the  time  if  he  ate  soups,  cake, 
whipped  cream,  etc.,  that  some  people  are  fed 
on  at  home.  We  were  on  a  purely  fishing  trip 


192  Letters-Essays 


and  yet  they  took  in  bacon,  pork,  yes,  salt  pork 
and  canned  beef.  Mr.  Hiram  Eobinson,  one  of 
the  proprietors  of  the  lodge,  persisted  in  speak 
ing  of  it  as  "  Cuba  beef,"  when  I  finally  told 
him  that  we  had  reliable  information  that  it  was 
some  of  the  beef  that  was  stolen  from  the  hos 
pitals  in  South  Africa.  That  seemed  to  settle  it. 
At  any  rate  we  heard  no  more  of  "  Cuba  beef." 
The  meat  supply  surprised  me.  I  supposed,  on 
such  a  trip,  that  the  fish  would  answer  for  meat, 
but  they  don 't.  A  few  meals  and  the  most  crazy 
fisherman  tires  of  them.  I  suppose  that  the  glory 
and  charm  of  fishing  is  not  the  fish,  or  in  the  eat 
ing  of  them,  but  in  the  sport  of  catching  them. 
Of  this  more  anon. 

We  have  viewed  our  surroundings  and  taken 
a  meal.  Let  us  step  into  the  cabin.  It  is  built 
of  logs  and  about  fifteen  by  eighteen  feet,  with  a 
porch  in  front.  In  the  rear  end  are  four  board 
double  berths,  two  upper  and  two  lower,  but  no 
elevator  or  even  stairs.  A  box  stove  stands  in 
the  center  of  the  room  for  use  in  the  hunting 
season.  The  guides  bring  in  a  little  straw  from 
the  ice  house  and  place  it  in  the  bunks.  The 
blankets  are  thrown  over  the  straw  and  your 
boots  or  valise  with  a  coat  over  them,  to  make 
them  soft  and  nice,  placed  at  the  head  for  a  pil 
low.  How  inviting  to  rest  and  slumber!  What 
an  exchange  for  the  soft  mattress,  clean  sheets 
and  feather  pillow  you  have  gone  off  and  left! 
What  reveries,  what  fantasies,  what  sweet  and 


An  Outing  In  Canada  193 

gentle  dreams  will  come  to  one  in  such  a  bed  as 
that! 

But  it's  camping  and  it's  glorious.  You  are 
getting  back  to  man's  native  state  and  you  must 
like  it,  love  it,  just  as  the  boy  grown  old  does  the 
place  of  his  nativity. 

We  spent  the  evening  until  a  late  hour  about 
the  camp  fire  on  the  lawn,  smoking,  chatting  and 
telling  stories.  It  was  about  all  we  could  do.  If 
we  got  away  from  the  fire  and  smoke,  the  little 
devils  would  pester  the  life  out  'of  us.  Having 
seen  the  bed,  I  didn't  much  care  if  we  sat  up  all 
night.  But,  weary  at  last,  and  wishing  to  be  in 
as  good  shape  as  possible  for  the  morrow's  fish 
ing,  we  went  to  bed.  Bed,  did  I  say?  I  should 
have  said  bunk.  A  bed  is  supposed  to  be  a  place 
where  one  can  sleep.  Didn't  we?  Well,  some 
of  us,  but  not  I,  very  much  that  night. 

Dr.  Kirby  and  I  got  one  of  the  upper  berths 
and  Dr.  McKay  and  brother  the  other.  The 
guides  were  directly  under  us,  that  is,  Dr.  Kirby 
and  me.  One  of  the  guides  and  one  of  our  own 
party  (I  withhold  his  name  out  of  pity)  went 
to  sleep  at  once.  Think  of  it,  in  such  a  bed! 
Tired  out,  I  suppose.  He  must  have  been.  But 
that  was  not  all.  They  went  to  snoring,  and 
such  swells  and  cadences  I  never  heard  sur 
passed.  One  was  an  in-snorer  only,  and  the 
other  both  an  in  and  out,  a  sort  of  compound 
blower.  Properly  rigged  up,  his  exhaust  and 
suction  would  run  a  large  fan,  and  I  should  think 


194  Letters-Essays 


he  would  do  it  these  hot  days.  I  do  not  give  his 
name,  as  his  wife  might  take  it  into  her  head  to 
go  out  west  and  get  a  divorce,  in  which  case  Dr. 
Kirby  and  I  would  be  star  witnesses  for  her.  But 
perhaps  he  doesn't  snore  at  home.  I  hope  not. 

Think  of  Dr.  Kirby,  saying  nothing  of  myself, 
in  such  a  bed,  in  that  hollow,  resonant  >cabin, 
with  a  snorer  under  us  and  another  at  our  heels, 
trying  to  woo  Morpheus.  We  called  to  them,  or 
rather  I  did,  many  times  to  ' '  stop, "  to  "  let  up, ' ' 
but  it  only  resulted  in  a  gurgle,  a  snap  and  a 
crack,  a  few  skips  and  the  same  old  story.  Thus 
we  rolled  and  tossed,  with  sore  and  aching  hip 
bone,  shoulder  and  side  of  the  head  till  the  wee 
hours  of  the  morning,  when  exhausted  nature 
kindly  kissed  us  and  we  were  still  at  last.  We 
must  have  slept  well  when  we  did  sleep,  for  we 
seemed  to  be  in  pretty  good  shape  in  the  morn 
ing.  We  arose  early,  not  from  choice,  but  be 
cause  we  had  to.  The  mosquitoes,  black  flies  and 
sand  flies  got  at  us  at  about  6  a.  m.  and  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  sleep,  after  this.  They 
tackled  the  snorers,  as  well  as  us,  and  I  was  glad 
of  it.  It  was  the  only  fair  play  we  had  seen. 

The  guides,  out  before  us,  had  caught  many 
minnows  for  bait  and  had  breakfast  well  under 
way.  Eating  it,  we  rigged  up  three  boats  and 
moved  off.  The  steel  and  bamboo  rods,  silk  and 
linen  lines,  reels,  plain  and  automatic,  tin  trunks 
with  many  compartments,  sinkers,  nippers,  clip 
pers,  hooks  for  all  kinds  of  fish,  gaff  hooks,  land- 


An  Outing  In  Canada  195 

ing  nets,  etc.,  etc.,  of  an  up-to-date  fisherman  are 
something  bewildering.  An  ordinary  layman 
would  think,  to  see  one  of  them  pack  up,  that  he 
was  an  army  surgeon.  The  minnows  are  put  in 
a  pail  filled  with  holes.  This  they  put  inside 
another  pail,  so  as  to  give  them  fresh  water  now 
and  then.  It  is  claimed  that  the  fish  bite  them 
better  if  they  are  kept  fresh,  but  I  can't  see  as 
it  can  make  much  difference,  since  when  they 
come  to  use  them  they  put  the  hooks  in  their 
mouths  and  out  through  the  top  of  their  heads, 
which  pacific  and  gentle  operation  must  be  very 
quieting  to  them. 

What  do  you  think  of  that  for  cruelty  to  ani 
mals,  and  by  college  bred  men  at  that?  But  it's 
fishing  and  it's  glorious.  No  sport  known  to 
man  equals  it  with  some,  and  only  hunting  rivals 
it  with  others.  Hunting  and  fishing  are  the  two 
great  pastimes  of  man  everywhere,  and  both  are 
essentially  cruel.  In  yesterday's  papers  I  see 
that  the  royalty  and  nobility  of  England  have 
just  started  out  to  chase,  shoot  and  kill  the 
game  which  they  have  grown  in  their  preserves 
for  the  very  purpose  of  chasing,  hounding,  wound 
ing  and  killing.  Why  do  we  so  inordinately  love 
such  sports?  Is  it  the  food  problem?  Hardly, 
for  we  do  not  need  it  and  eat  but  little  of  it  when 
we  get  it.  It  lies  back  of  this.  It  is  in  our  na 
tures,  engrafted  there  by  the  ages  of  struggle 
of  our  early  forefathers  to  live,  and  it  will  take 
ages  to  eradicate  it,  if  it  ever  be  done. 


196  Letters-Essays 


While  thus  moralizing,  we  have  reached  good 
fishing  grounds.  The  hooks  are  baited  and 
thrown  out.  They  only  fairly  sink  into  the  water 
when  they  are  taken.  Away  goes  the  line,  now 
here,  now  there,  cutting  the  water  with  a  siss, 
bending  the  pole  to  a  semi-circle.  The  fisher 
man,  eager,  excited,  see  how  his  face  glows, 
watching  the  antics  of  the  fish,  as  he  darts  about, 
now  out  of  the  water,  in  again,  behind  the  boat, 
all  about,  until  he  is  tired  out  and  taken  in.  What 
sport,  what  fun.  Only  the  genuine  fisherman 
can  measure  it.  Thus  it  went  most  of  the  time, 
whenever  desired,  for  five  days.  The  fish  caught 
were  mostly  bass,  some  dore  and  a  few  pickerel. 
The  dore  correspond  very  much,  if  not  fully,  to 
what  we  call  pike.  After  a  little  we  only  kept 
the  large  ones,  three  pounds  or  over,  throwing 
the  smaller  ones  back  into  the  stream,  but  we 
had  the  sport  of  catching  them  just  the  same, 
or  rather  they  did.  How  such  Racket  Eiver  fish 
ermen  as  John  0 'Sullivan,  A.  D.  Heath  and 
others  I  could  name  would  laugh  and  verily  revel 
in  such  fishing  as  we  found.  But,  I  suspect,  it 
would  hardly  be  safe  for  them  to  indulge  in  it, 
as  in  their  delirium  of  delight  they  would  be 
likely  to  capsize  the  boat  and  drown! 

The  sport  of  fishing,  to  the  real  fisherman,  is 
a  supreme  and  constant  joy  and  pleasure.  It 
must  be  innate,  something  which  masters  him, 
when  he  will  creep  and  wade  down  a  brook,  with 
low,  overhanging  alder  bushes,  in  mosquito  and 


An  Outing  In  Canada  197 

black  fly  time,  Ms  face,  neck  and  hands  coated 
with  sticky  tar  preparations,  or  sit  in  a  boat  all 
day,  as  we  did,  in  the  broiling  sun,  to  catch  fish, 
only  to  throw  nine  out  of  ten  back  into  the 
stream.  But,  perhaps,  it  is  not  the  catching  of 
the  nine  but  the  tenth  that  encourages  and 
pleases  them.  Something  does  at  any  rate. 

Thus  you  have  the  story  of  one  day's  fishing. 
The  others  were  but  repetitions  of  this,  though 
in  new  waters.  We  go  back  to  camp  as  evening 
comes  on.  We  eat  better  and  sleep  better  than 
we  did  at  first.  The  exercise,  ozone  of  the  woods, 
and  freedom  from  care  are  doing  us  good.  We 
are  the  better  for  it  all.  We  are  stronger  now. 
They  can  snore  and  we  can  sleep  some.  And 
here  I  am,  time  and  space  gone  again.  There 
were  some  pleasant  incidents  which  I  meant  to 
mention,  but  must  pass  them  now.  Possibly  I 
may  be  able  to  give  them  to  you  later,  though  I 
do  not  promise. 

m. 

The  disposition,  common  to  most  of  us,  to  wish 
to  finish  what  we  undertake,  prompts  me  to  re 
sume  the  narrative  which  I  supposed  when  I  be 
gan  would  be  completed  in  a  single  letter.  I  did 
not,  it  seems,  duly  value  the  items  and  incidents 
of  the  trip  in  so  thinking,  or  else  I  have  unduly 
expatiated  upon  them.  However,  wherever  the 
fault  may  lie,  I  should  be  able  to  stand  it  if  you 


198  Letters-Essays 


and  your  readers  can,  since  I  am  only  out  the 
time  that  it  takes  to  write  them.  Begging  par 
don  for  the  space  taken,  I  assure  you  and  them 
to  complete  the  outing  with  this  letter. 

I  hear,  through  friendly  sources,  a  little  com 
plaint  that  I  have  not  enlivened  and  embellished 
these  articles  with  some  fairy  and  fantastic  fish 
stories  and  fishing  exploits — that  many  readers 
expect  them  and  are  not  a  little  disappointed  that 
none  are  given— that  an  enlarged  and  highly  ex 
aggerated  truth  is  not  only  warranted,  but  ex 
pected  by  some,  in  the  story  of  a  fishing  trip.  If 
there  be  such,  and  no  doubt  there  are,  I  am  sure 
I  have  only  to  remind  them  of  the  company  I 
was  in.  They  must  have  forgotten  this.  It 
wouldn't  do  with  such  a  witness  against  me. 
What  I  might  or  would  have  done  but  for  this 
there  is  no  telling.  So  I  guess  on  the  whole,  tak 
ing  everything  into  consideration,  that  fishing 
parties  would  better  take  the  minister  and  leave 
the  doctor,  if  they  can't  take  both.  There  is 
more  danger  of  doing  wrong  than  of  illness.  Then, 
too,  some  people  get  well,  you  know,  when  the 
doctor  can't  get  at  them. 

Pent  up  there  in  the  woods,  shut  off  from  the 
telegraph,  post-office,  newspapers  and  civiliza 
tion  itself  (except  the  little  of  the  latter  that  we 
took  along  with  us)  we  had,  naturally,  as  all 
such  parties  do,  many  amusing  and  laughable  epi 
sodes  and  experiences.  A  few  of  them  are  per 
haps  worthy  of  note.  At  once  in  going  into  camp, 


An  Outing  In  Canada  199 

the  guides  went  and  got  their  Indian  birch  bark 
canoe  which  they  had  hid  in  the  woods,  think 
ing  to  help  us  out.  But  it  didn't.  No  one  could 
or  would  ride  in  it  but  themselves,  and  we  wanted 
them  to  help  row  our  boats.  One  day  Hiram  Mc 
Kay,  quite  an  experienced  boatsman,  decided  he 
would  use  it  on  one  of  our  trips  with  a  guide  to 
paddle.  They  got  into  it  off  the  wharf,  with 
some  help,  and  started  out,  but  they  didn't  go 
far  when  they  went  back  and  rigged  up  an  old 
water  soaked  punt  and  came  on  after  us. 

Beaching  us,  we  laughed  at  him,  but  he  cared 
not;  said  he  was  in  mortal  terror  all  the  time; 
that  the  tottlish  thing  was  in  an  eternal  quiver 
and  seemed  determined  to  turn  over,  but  unde 
cided  which  way  it  was  going  to  go;  that  he 
didn't  dare  to  wink  one  eye  at  a  time,  so  evenly 
balanced  must  he  keep  himself.  They  are  made 
of  a  single  piece  of  bark,  coming  to  an  edge  and 
gently  turning  up  at  either  end,  as  round  as  a 
barrel  and  as  smooth  as  a  polished  floor.  They 
float  the  water  like  a  "  thing  of  life  "  and  are 
pleasant  to  look  upon,  but  get  into  them  and  the 
charm  is  gone.  They  are  too  anxious  to  turn 
over  to  make  it  pleasant.  In  fact,  to  a  new  comer, 
they  seemed  determined  to  do  so.  And  when 
they  do,  how  mighty  quick  it  is  done!  You  can't 
say  good-bye  to  friends  on  the  shore  before  it  is 
wrong  side  up  and  you  are  under  it  out  of  sight. 
We  had  a  good  deal  of  bantering  and  challenging 
when  Mr.  Robinson  decided  that  he  could  ride 


200  Letters-Essays 


it.  We  held  it  for  him  to  get  in,  as  you  would 
a  kicking  colt  for  one  to  mount.  The  Indian  po 
sition,  which,  of  course,  we  must  copy,  is  to  place 
your  knees  on  the  bottom  and  -sit  on  the  bar 
across  from  the  gunwales,  giving  you  a  sort  of 
half-standing  position  on  your  knees  with  your 
feet  under  the  bar — a  rather  perilous  situation, 
it  seemed  to  me.  But  he  took  it  and  we  very 
gently  pushed  him  out  into  the  stream.  He  and 
it,  we  could  see,  were  quivering  like  a  leaf,  es 
pecially  it.  Taking  a  few  gentle  strokes  with  the 
paddle  he  shot  out  into  the  stream,  when,  quick 
as  lightning,  his  giant  form  was  lost  to  view  and 
the  canoe  bottom  side  up.  His  wife,  on  the  shore 
with  us,  cried  out,  clasped  her  hands  and  rushed 
for  the  water's  edge.  The  rest  of  us  were  silent 
at  first,  fearing  his  legs  might  be  entangled  with 
the  cross-bars,  but,  presently,  as  he  emerged  just 
below  the  canoe,  roared  with  laughter  as  you  may 
well  believe. 

Oh !  the  canoe,  the  real  Indian  canoe,  is  a  pretty 
thing,  an  idyl;  it  rides  the  water  so  lightly,  even 
poetically,  like  a  thing  of  beauty.  But  its  place, 
it  seems  to  me,  is  in  story,  painting  or  poem. 

In  a  previous  letter  I  told  you  of  the  sand 
flies,  simply  mentioning  them.  They  are,  per 
haps,  deserving  of  a  little  further  notice.  I  don 't 
know  whether  we  have  any  such  animals  in  these 
parts  or  not.  I  hope  not,  at  any  rate.  I  never 
happened  to  hear  of  them  before.  The  first  I 
knew  of  them  was  one  evening,  when  out  on  the 


An  Outing  In  Canada  201 

river  with  a  guide,  looking  for  deer — simply  to 
see  them.  Creeping  along  the  shore,  all  at  once 
I  began  to  feel  sharp  bites  on  the  back  of  my 
neck,  up  my  sleeve  and  finally  all  over  me.  I  was 
kept  mighty  busy  spatting  and  rubbing  the  bit 
ten  places.  I  couldn't  feel  that  I  killed  anything, 
nor  could  I  see  any  mosquitoes  or  black  flies  fly 
ing  about.  What  the  deuce  was  biting  me  I  didn't 
know.  Being  under  an  injunction  to  keep  very 
still  I  stood  it  for  some  time.  Tormented  at  last 
to  exasperation,  deer  or  no  deer,  I  turned  and 
called  out  to  the  guide:  "  What  in  the  world  is 
biting  me  so?  I  don't  see  anything  flying  about, 
but  I  am  being  bitten  all  over."  Laughing  till 
he  shook  himself  and  the  boat  he  feebly  muttered 
out  in  broken  English,  "  San'  flies."  And  let 
me  say  right  here  that  the  mosquito  and  black 
fly  are  nowhere  with  these  fellows.  They  can  get 
at  you  in  the  most  hidden  parts,  where  the  others 
can't  go.  They  are  so  small  that  you  can't  feel 
them  walking  up  your  arm  or  down  your  back, 
but  you  can  when  they  stop  to  bite,  as  they  are 
sure  to  do. 

The  next  day  I  spent  some  time  to  find  one — 
just  to  see  him.  Feeling  a  bite  on  my  hand,  I 
let  him  go  it,  and  putting  on  my  spectacles,  took 
a  look  at  him.  A  tinier  little  beast  you  never 
saw,  a  perfect  little  fly.  What  infinitesimal  lit 
tle  wings.  If  Noah  took  a  pair  of  these  into  the 
ark  with  him,  and  I  suppose  he  did,  he  must  have 
been  a  great  naturalist.  How  he  did  it  without 


202  Letters-Essays 


a  microscope  is  more  than  I  can  tell,  and  lenses 
came  into  use  long  after  his  time. 

On  one  of  our  fishing  trips,  after  building  a  fire 
on  the  shore,  getting  and  eating  our  dinner,  we 
all  got  out  on  some  rocks  to  smoke,  when  all  at 
once  there  was  a  slip,  much  scrambling  and 
sprawling,  and  presently  a  great  splash.  One 
of  our  party  was  in  the  river  and  with  his  clothes 
all  on.  Being  close  to  shore,  and  no  danger,  it 
was  a  very  laughable  incident  as  he  came  up  out 
of  the  water,  soaked  to  the  skin,  his  clothes  wet 
and  dripping  and  fitting  his  person  like  a  glove, 
but  we  didn't  laugh,  no,  not  much,  just  a  little, 
when  he  did.  This  party  doesn't  believe  in  total 
immersion,  that  is,  that  it  is  actually  necessary 
to  be  total,  but  he  took  it  and  very  gracefully 
this  time.  Had  it  been  I  or  some  of  the  others 
they  would  have  died  a  laughing.  That  very 
evening,  when  gathered  about  our  camp  fire 
telling  stories,  and  wearing  the  time  away,  this 
same  fellow,  presumably  to  further  dry  himself, 
turned  in  his  chair,  astride  it,  with  his  back  to 
the  fire,  when  over  he  went  across  and  into  our 
kitchen  fire.  There  was,  luckily,  a  gentleman 
sitting  on  the  opposite  side  who,  with  others,  in 
stantly  gathered  him  up  and  out  of  it.  We  didn't 
laugh  this  time,  either,  just  chuckled  a  little, 
when  we  learned  that  he  was  unharmed.  I  do 
not  need  to  give  any  name.  It  would  not  help 
the  story  any  and  he  may  be  a  little  sensitive.  I 
will  say,  however,  that  he  was  a  good  man,  must 


An  Outing  In  Canada  203 

have  been,  for,  like  the  three  good  men  of  old, 
he  came  out  of  the  fiery  furnace  without  even  the 
smell  of  fire  upon  his  garments. 

During  our  stay  of  a  week  in  camp  we  saw 
quite  a  good  many  deer  and  all  in  the  day  time. 
The  hunting  season  in  Canada  is  during  the 
months  of  October  and  November.  They  can 
hound  deer  during  the  last  ten  days  of  October 
only. 

In  moving  about  on  the  river  we  came  upon 
many  patches  of  lily  pads  with  their  beautiful 
orange  and  white  blossoms.  At  one  place  there 
was  a  full  half-acre  of  them — all  white.  How 
beautiful  they  were!  The  flower  seems  to  sit  or 
rest  just  upon  the  surface  as  if  it  had  had  all  it 
could  do  to  get  out  to  view.  What  a  pure,  deli 
cate  and  exquisite  white!  It  seemed  to  me  that 
I  had  never  seen  anything  quite  so  absolutely 
white,  tender  and  lovely.  Perhaps,  very  likely, 
the  lone  retreat  and  sombre  stillness  of  those 
sighing  pine  forests  added  a  little  to  their  lus 
trous  whiteness  and  purity.  Why  are  they  there 
and  how  came  they  so  exquisitely  white?  Is  na 
ture  so  kind,  so  prodigal  to  the  muskrat,  duck 
and  poor  Indian?  Are  they  beautiful  to  them 
or  do  they  pass  them  by  unnoticed?  At  best  but 
few  see  them — farther  back  in  the  wilderness, 
none  at  all,  and  yet  they  pine  not,  but  come  and 
go  with  the  seasons.  As  night  comes  on,  the  en 
folding  and  protecting  leaves  close  up,  making 
a  green  bulb  of  the  blossom,  as  much  as  to  say 


204  Letters-Essays 


there  is  no  eye  to  see  me  now  and  I  will  protect 
my  purity  and  loveliness  from  the  night  air,  that 
I  may  be  as  beautiful  to  the  morrow's  passer  by. 
Many  times  as  I  looked  upon  them  I  asked  my 
self  these  and  kindred  questions  and  I  am  still 
asking,  but  no  satisfactory  answer  comes  to  me. 

From  what  was  told  me,  I  judge  they  kill  deer 
out  of  season,  about  the  same  as  it  is  reported 
they  are  killed  in  the  States.  They  have  pre 
serves  over  there,  the  same  as  we  do,  but  they 
do  not  own  them  as  here,  they  rent  them  from 
the  government.  The  one  we  were  on  consisted 
of  fifteen  square  miles  with  annual  dues  of  $62.50, 
no  other  taxes  or  charges. 

A  few  rods  from  our  camp  was  a  grave  in  the 
woods,  hidden  with  brakes  and  bushes,  covered 
over  entirely  with  stone,  and  a  few  rods  farther 
two  more.  Whenever  the  Indians,  or  even  the 
poor  whites,  sicken  and  die  in  the  woods  they 
are  often  taken  ashore  and  buried.  If  it  be  an 
Indian  they  bury  his  pipe,  knife,  gun,  etc.,  with 
him  for  use  in  the  other  world.  If  it  be  a  white 
man  they  strip  him  of  all  these  and  often  get 
into  a  quarrel  or  law  suit  over  a  division  of  them. 
Standing  by  these  graves,  away  back  there  in 
the  woods,  no  headstone  to  tell  the  stranger  their 
names,  their  race  or  when  they  fell  asleep,  with 
the  sighing  of  the  pine  their  only  prayer,  made 
us,  I  confess,  a  little  sad.  Perhaps  it  should  not 
have  done  so,  but  it  did. 

And  this  is  the  story  of  our  outing.    That  I  have 


An  Outing  In  Canada  205 

given  at  least  a  faithful  and  honest,  if  not  in 
teresting,  portrayal  of  both  the  pleasant  and  dis 
comforting  sides  of  camp  life,  I  feel  quite  sure 
that  those  who  have  had  similar  experience  will 
attest.  I  certainly  have  done  my  best  in  a  hasty 
way,  and  under  some  adverse  circumstances,  to  so 
picture  it  that  all,  especially  those  who  have  not 
been  in  camp,  might  sleep  with  us,  eat  with  us 
and  laugh  with  us.  That  I  have  but  imperfectly 
succeeded  I  well  know.  At  best  any  pen  picture 
can  be  only  a  poor  apology  for  actual  camp  ex 
perience.  It  did  me  good — did  us  all  good,  physi 
cally,  mentally,  and,  I  trust,  spiritually. 

The  only  tinge  of  sadness  that  comes  from  it  all 
is  the  reflection  that  so  short,  or  even  a  longer 
stay  in  the  woods,  should  build  up  and  reinvigo- 
rate  us  as  it  seems  to  do.  Is  it  not  more  or  less  of 
an  indictment  of  higher  life  and  cultured  living 
that  we  must  play  semi-aborigine  every  now  and 
then  to  be  in  good  shape — to  repair  the  loastes  of 
our  aesthetic,  cultured  lifef 


Militant 


CANNOT  restrain  the  impulse  to  add  a 
few  words  to  the  common  sorrow  of  all 
our  people,  not  that  I  can  tell  them 
anything  they  do  not  know  or,  in  any 
manner,  temper  the  anguish  of  their  bereave 
ment.  No,  it  is  not  that,  or  to  do  that,  that  I 
would  speak.  It  is  rather  the  welling  of  emo 
tions  which  would  have  expression  for  relief's 
sake — the  utterance  of  a  cry,  as  the  most  nat 
ural  outlet  and  escape  for  pent  up  feelings. 
Overburdened  with  grief  and  sorrow,  human 
nature  finds  relief  and  consolation  in  tears  and 
prayer,  and  in  the  belief  that  God  in  justice  and 
wisdom  rules.  If  we  could  not  do  this,  there 
would  be  no  lamp  to  our  walk,  and  eternal  dark 
ness  would  eventually  be  around  and  upon  us. 
Anarchy,  black  anarchy,  and  barbarism,  would, 
ere  long,  hold  sway  and  there  would  be  little 
hope  for  mankind. 

A  great  sorrow  has  fallen  upon  all  our  people, 
nay,  upon  all  civilized  peoples.  From  all  quar 
ters  of  the  globe  which  civilization  has  touched 
and  quickened,  come  the  prayer  and  condolence 
of  potentate  and  peasant  to  help  us  in  this  hour 


William  McKinley  207 

of  mighty  sorrow.  That  they  do  it,  is  proof  that 
sympathy,  fellow  feeling  and  brotherly  love  are 
in  the  ascendancy  throughout  the  land,  and  that 
there  is  hope  for  the  future.  When  all  peoples 
are  touched  and  bowed  down  by  a  sorrow  and 
affliction  that  has  fallen  upon  one  people,  it 
speaks  well  for  the  progress  we  have  made  and 
for  the  ultimate  unification  of  all  into  a  common 
brotherhood. 

Mr.  McKinley  was  beloved  by  the  people  while 
in  office,  to  a  greater  extent  and  more  universally 
than  any  other  of  our  Presidents,  even  more  so 
than  the  immortal  Lincoln.  He  was  a  grand  man, 
gentle,  generous,  kindly.  He  loved  the  people 
and  had  no  other  thought  than  their  welfare  and 
good.  He  took  no  steps,  pushed  no  measures 
until  he  had  consulted  the  people  and  got  their 
will.  He  sought  only  to  be  the  executive  of  the 
people,  never  their  oppressor.  He  was  an  able 
man,  probably  the  ablest  and  strongest  man  in 
civil  life  today.  No  man  in  this  country  could 
equal  him  in  a  speech  to  the  people.  No  man 
excelled  him  in  clear,  apt  and  epigrammatic  ex 
pression  or  in  felicitious  phrasing.  He  was  the 
most  consummate  handler  and  master  of  men  of 
this  age  or  of  any  age.  He  could  wield  and  bring 
more  men  to  his  way  of  thinking,  without  offend 
ing  or  wounding  them,  than  any  man  of  modern 
times.  The  only  man  who  nearly  approached  him 
in  this  respect  was  Lincoln.  Neither  ever  spoke 
ill  or  harshly  of  another.  Both  were  too  great, 


208  Letters-Essays 


grand  and  noble  to  thus  belittle  themselves. 
Dying  as  he  did  places  him  with  the  immortals 
and  second  only  to  Lincoln. 

For  the  third  time  within  forty  years  the  Re 
public  of  Washington  and  Lincoln,  the  only  free 
Republic  among  men,  has  been  thrown  by  an  as 
sassin's  hand  into  the  deepest  gloom  and  most 
lamentable  sorrow.  Why!  Oh,  ye  God  of  hosts, 
why?  We  mortals  cannot  answer,  cannot  say. 
Were  they  tyrants,  monsters,  as  rulers?  No,  on 
the  contrary,  confessed  by  all,  they  were  the 
gentlest,  tenderest,  kindest,  and  most  lovable  of 
all  our  Presidents,  and  for  that  matter  of  all  chief 
executives  in  the  world's  history.  There  is  no 
higher  or  nobler  type  of  man  and  ruler  on  the 
pages  of  history  than  that  of  the  immortal  Lin 
coln.  Garfield,  too,  was  a  gentle  and  conserva 
tive  man  and  much  in  the  hearts  of  his  people. 
Lincoln  was  struck  down  after  four  years  of  awful 
civil  war,  and  our  people  then,  and  ever  since, 
have  found,  or  at  least  taken,  some  consolation 
for  the  act  from  this  fact.  Garfield  was  shot  by 
a  crazy  fanatic,  whose  brain  gave  way  to  the 
bitter  and  relentless  political  feuds  and  strifes 
which  then  rent  the  party,  and  again  the  people's 
grief  and  indignation  were  allayed,  seeking,  as 
they  do  and  ever  will,  for  some  palliation  or  par 
tial  excuse. 

In  McKinley's  case  we  are  bereft  and  dis 
consolate,  with  no  excuse,  palliation  or  extenu 
ating  circumstance.  It  was  the  most  cold  blooded 


William  McKinley  209 

and  dastardly  crime  in  all  history.  Moving  with 
the  throng  who  loved  him  and  wished  to  greet 
him,  under  the  guise  of  friendship,  in  a  temple 
dedicated  to  music,  with  gun  hidden  from  view, 
as  the  proffered  hand  is  extended,  the  assassin 
shoots  him  down.  Oh,  what  a  crime  was  that! 
It  is  appalling,  awful.  To  think  of  it  or  recount 
it  makes  one  faint  and  sick  at  heart.  But  we 
should  not  and  must  not  despair.  As  Garfield 
told  the  excited  throng  from  the  steps  of  the 
sub-treasury  in  New  York  City  on  that  bitter 
morning  in  April,  1865,  "  God  reigns  and  the 
Government  at  Washington  still  lives,"  so  yet 
again  may  we  repeat  the  same  message.  Then, 
too,  McKinley  dying,  in  his  latest  breath  and  last 
words,  bidding  all  "  good-bye,"  admonished  all, 
us  all,  that  it  was  God's  will  and  for  the  best.  It 
must  be  that  it  is,  though  we  with  our  short  vis 
ion  cannot  divine  it.  If  it  be  not,  then  God  does 
not  reign,  and  this  we  cannot,  must  not,  say  or 
believe.  Out  of  this  crime  will  come,  must  come, 
some  great  good.  Already  it  has  knit  us  all  into 
one  brotherhood  of  devoted,  loyal,  loving,  weep 
ing  people.  At  this  bier  there  is  no  sect,  no  clan, 
no  party,  but  one  and  all,  kindly  and  fraternal, 
save  possibly  the  blear-eyed  and  savage  anarchist. 
Tribulation  and  sorrow,  deep  and  universal  as 
it  is,  cannot  but  remove  some  of  the  asperities  of 
our  natures,  and  make  us  gentler,  kindlier  and 
better. 
Poor  and  weak  as  this  balm  may  be,  we  know 


210  Letters-Essays 


it  is  best  to  accept  that  which  is,  complacently, 
knowing  that  we  are  frail  and  shortsighted,  trust 
ing,  relying,  as  he  did  and  as  he  bid  us,  on  the 
stewardship  of  God  Himself.  Little  else  is  left  us. 


2>aniei  Webster 


power  of  fl&agnificent  presence 


S"|OME  years  ago  Mr.  William  L.  Knowles 
^i  of  Potsdam  gave  me  an  account  of  his 
•MM  first  sight  of  Daniel  Webster,  which  is 
worth  repeating.  Mr.  Knowles  and 
Henry  J.  Raymond  were  pretty  close  friends 
while  students  at  the  Burlington  University. 
Mr.  Raymond  was  in  the  class  just  ahead  of  Mr. 
Knowles  and,  therefore,  graduated  a  year  in  ad 
vance  of  him.  While  in  college,  he  had  been 
writing  a  good  deal  for  The  Tribune,  and.  when 
he  left  college,  went  directly  upon  The  Tribune 
staff  at  $15  per  week,  which  was  considered 
pretty  high  pay.  Mr.  Raymond  was  a  very  able 
young  man  and  a  most  brilliant  writer.  Mr. 
Greeley  was  anxious  to  secure  him  on  his  paper. 
He  did,  but  he  proved  too  brainy  and  ambitious 
to  get  along  well  with  such  an  indomitable 
master  as  Mr.  Greeley. 

When  Mr.  Knowles  graduated  he  went  into  a 
noted  law  office,  the  name  of  which  I  have  for 
gotten,  in  New  York  City,  where  he  resumed  his 


212  Letters-Essays 


pleasant  relations  with  Mr.  Baymond.  One  bright 
morning  he  was  taking  an  early  stroll  down 
Broadway  alone,  listlessly  passing  along,  meeting 
but  few  and  not  noting  them,  thinking  of  how 
insignificant  is  a  man  in  such  a  mart. 

The  Astor  House  was  then  a  large  and  noted 
hotel.  There  were  broad  stone  steps  leading  from 
the  walk  up  to  the  entrance,  with  heavy  stone 
buttresses  on  either  side,  having  a  broad  top  or 
surface  on  a  level  with  the  door  sill,  extending 
out  to  and  a  few  feet  above  the  edge  of  the 
pavement,  on  which  a  man  could  readily  walk. 

As  Mr.  Knowles  neared  these  steps  in  his  idle 
walk  he  looked  up,  just  how  or  why  he  could 
not  say.  As  he  did  so,  a  stocky  man  with  broad 
shoulders,  large  wide-rimmed  Panama  hat,  with 
a  courtly  and  magnificent  bearing,  was  walking 
out  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  balustrades  with 
head  up,  sniffing  the  morning  air  like  a  lion  ris 
ing  from  his  lair.  The  moment  his  eyes  fell  upon 
him  they  were  riveted  and  so  was  he  in  his 
tracks.  He  did  not  know  it  until  awakened  from 
the  spell  a  few  moments  later,  nor  did  he  know 
the  name  of  the  man  whose  distinguished  pres 
ence,  unaided  and  alone,  had  done  it.  Nor  did 
he  notice,  so  intent  was  his  gaze  upon  this  superb 
figure,  that  all  other  people  going  by,  up  or  down, 
had  been  equally  with  himself  arrested  in  their 
walk  until  the  street  was  blocked  with  men  for 
some  distance. 

Presently  some  one  in  the  crowd  who  recog- 


Daniel  Webster  213 


nized  him  cried  out:  "  Give  us  a  speech,  Web 
ster."  At  this  Mr.  Knowles  turned  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  voice  and  for  the  first  time  learned 
that  a  mass  of  people  had  collected  about  him. 
Thereupon  there  was  a  grand  call  for  a  speech, 
but  Mr.  Webster  instantly  raised  his  hat  and, 
graciously  bowing,  strolled  with  masterly  dig 
nity  back  into  the  hotel. 

What  intellect  and  genius  must  one  possess,  ex 
pressed  in  brow,  in  eye,  in  mouth,  in  chin,  and 
in  that  indefinable  look  and  stately  bearing  at 
tendant  only  upon  consummate  and  conscious 
ability,  to  block  a  street  with  his  presence  alone. 
It  was  not  due  to  great  height  or  enormous  size, 
since,  as  I  remember,  he  was  under  six  feet  in 
height  and  -weighed  a  little  over  two  hundred. 

It  is  the  homage  which  mediocrity  pays  to 
genius.  But  why  should  so  few  be  thus  blessed, 
or  rather  why  should  so  many  of  us  be  so  very 
plain? 


Jubge  fcestie  TWL  IRussell 


HE  subject  of  this  sketch  was  born  April 
15th,  1840,  at  Canton,  New  York.     His 
father,  John  Leslie  Russell,  resided  there 
and  was,   for  many  years,   one  of    the 
prominent  forces  in  the  affairs  of  St.  Lawrence 
County,  dying  early  in  1861,  at  the  opening  of 
the  great  Civil  War. 

Judge  Russell  secured  his  school  training  in 
the  district  school  and  in  the  Academy  at  Can 
ton.  Though  he  had  not  the  advantages  of  a  col 
legiate  education,  he  possessed  what  the  college 
cannot  give,  only  train,  a  strong,  vigorous  and 
intuitive  mind.  The  generally  understood  need 
of  a  college  course  to  train,  drill  and  polish  the 
faculties  we  possess  has  been,  in  his  case,  amply 
compensated  for  by  his  long  and  varied  profes 
sional  study.  He  read  law  in  the  office  of  Nich 
olas  Hill  in  Albany,  New  York,  one  of  the  ablest 
lawyers  in  the  state,  arid  began  the  practice  of 
law  at  Canton  in  1861.  He  soon  formed  a  co 
partnership  with  William  H.  Sawyer,  under  the 
firm  name  of  Sawyer  &  Russell,  which  continued 
till  the  appointment  of  the  former  to  the  Supreme 
Bench  in  1875.  This  firm  did  an  extensive  busi- 


JUDGE  LESLIE    W.    RUSSELL 


Judge  Leslie  W.  Russell  215 

ness  and  became  one  of  the  most  noted,  as  it  was 
one  of,  if  not  the,  ablest  law  firms  in  northern 
New  York. 

In  1867,  when  only  twenty-seven  years  of  age, 
he  was  elected  a  delegate  to  the  convention  to 
revise  the  organic  law  of  the  state.  After  this 
he  held  the  position  of  district  attorney  of  the 
county,  law  professor  in  the  St.  Lawrence  Uni 
versity,  supervisor  of  his  town,  presidential 
elector,  County  Judge  of  the  county,  Attorney 
General  of  the  state,  member  of  Congress  and 
Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court,  which  latter  po 
sition  he  now  holds.  In  all  these  positions  he 
has  acquitted  himself,  not  only  with  credit,  but 
with  distinction.  It  is  generally  conceded  that 
the  state  has  not  had  in  years,  if  it  ever  had,  an 
abler  Attorney  General,  one  possessing  greater 
legal  acumen  or  ability  to  grasp  the  complex 
questions  coming  to  that  office  for  solution  and 
determination.  During  his  term  as  Attorney 
General  he  never  found  it  necessary  to  employ 
counsel  or  assistance  in  any  litigation  or  matter. 
He  was  fully  competent  to  grasp  and  handle 
alone  every  case  which  came  before  him. 

On  completion  of  his  term  as  Attorney  General 
he  went  to  New  York  City,  where  he  practiced 
law  for  eight  years,  and  until  his  election  to  the 
Supreme  Court  Bench,  January  1st,  1892.  Dur 
ing  those  eight  years  he  was  the  attorney  or 
counsel  in  several  important  and  famous  litiga 
tions,  involving  thousands  and  even  millions  of 


216  Letters-Essays 


dollars.  In  these  great  struggles  he  met  as  foes 
Eoseoe  Conkling,  Joseph  H.  Choate  and  others, 
the  most  distinguished  lawyers  in  America.  With 
these  men  as  opponents  he  was  just  as  much  at 
ease,  just  as  sanguine  of  himself  and  of  his  case, 
and  carried  himself  with  that  superb  confidence 
for  which  he  was  famous  at  the  circuit  in  north 
ern  New  York. 

The  most  important  cases  in  which  he  was  in 
terested  were  the  Broadway  surface  railroad  lit 
igation,  the  Brooklyn  elevated  railroad  suit  and 
the  action  by  the  heirs  of  A.  T.  Stewart  to  re 
cover  portions  of  his  estate.  The  Broadway  sur 
face  railroad  matter  got  into,  as  will  be  remem 
bered,  an  interminable  muddle  owing  to  a  num 
ber  of  actions  being  brought  to  accomplish  the 
same  end,  and  a  weak  and  inefficient  comprehen 
sion  of  the  situation.  When  the  matter  had 
reached  a  stage  of  great  confusion  and  bewilder 
ment,  the  Attorney  General  of  the  state  engaged 
Judge  Eussell  to  take  the  whole  matter  in  charge, 
and  he  did,  winning  the  case  at  every  point  and 
through  all  the  courts. 

The  Brooklyn  Elevated  suits  were  in  just  about 
as  inexplicable  a  muddle  when  he  took  hold  of 
them.  In  these  he  was  beaten  at  the  circuit  and 
at  the  general  term,  but  at  the  Court  of  Appeals 
he  not  only  secured  reversal  of  the  judgment  be 
low,  but  a  judgment  absolute  for  his  clients.  In 
these  suits  it  is  understood  he  got,  as  he  should, 
a  very  handsome  fee. 


Judge  Leslie  W.  Russell  217 

In  the  Palmer  will  case,  famous  as  establish 
ing  a  new  principle  of  law,  Judge  Russell  was 
counsel  with  C.  E.  Sanford,  attorney.  In  this 
case  it  was  settled  as  a  principle  of  law  that  a 
party  taking  the  life  of  one  who  has  made  a  will 
in  his  behalf,  for  the  purpose  of  coming  into  pos 
session  of  the  property,  cannot  take  as  devisee 
or  even  as  heir.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  so  wise 
and  beneficent  a  principle  as  this  had  not  been 
settled  in  English  law  till  this  case  was  heard. 
So  far  as  could  be  ascertained,  from  an  exhaustive 
study  of  English  law  and  jurisprudence,  the  prin 
ciples  established  by  this  decision  have  never 
been  raised,  or  at  least  decided  by  the  courts. 
Presumably,  it  has  been  thought  that  the  statutes 
of  descent  were  controlling  and  paramount  to 
even  so  beneficent  a  principle;  that  statute  law 
is  superior  to  abstract  right.  And  yet  the  merest 
school  boy  knows  that  it  is  an  axiom,  both  of 
moral  and  statute  law,  that  no  man  shall  profit 
by  his  own  wrong.  Still,  in  the  thousands  of 
cases  in  the  past  centuries  where  a  devisee  had 
taken  the  life  of  his  testator,  no  one  had  invoked 
this  principle  against  the  positive  statute  law  of 
descent.  Since  the  decision  of  this  case,  in  1889, 
upwards  of  fifty  similar  cases  have  already 
arisen.  Therefore  in  the  preparation  and  pres 
entation  of  this  case  there  was  no  guide,  no  pre 
cedent.  And  yet  Judge  Russell  saw  the  end  from 
the  beginning.  His  prayer  for  judgment  in  the 
complaint  was  almost  literally  followed  by  the 


218  Letters-Essays 


decision  of  the  Court  of  Appeals.  His  brief  on 
the  argument  was  printed  at  the  time  and  is 
everywhere  conceded  to  be  a  legal  classic ;  a  mas 
terpiece  of  moral  and  philosophic  reasoning  and 
argument.  This  decision,  so  just  and  beneficent, 
has  been  followed  in  some  states  and,  we  regret 
to  say,  disapproved  in  others,  on  the  ground  that 
statute  law  is  controlling;  that  courts  cannot 
make  law  or  do  justice  as  against  a  statute.  How 
ever,  in  this  imperial  state  they  can  and  in  this 
case  they  did. 

In  the  midst  of  a  law  practice  such  as  this,  he 
was  nominated  as  a  candidate  for  the  Supreme 
Court  Judgeship.  He  did  not  seek  the  nomina 
tion,  was  in  no  sense  a  candidate.  The  position 
sought  him  as  it  should  seek  the  man  in  all  cases, 
but  seldom  does.  Many  people  at  the  time  were 
not  a  little  surprised  that  he  accepted  the  Judge- 
ship,  great  as  it  is  in  distinction,  honor  and 
power. 

They  could  not  see  how  one  so  able,  so  gifted 
and  well  equipped  to  meet  and  cope  with  the 
giants  at  the  bar,  and  with  such  an  extensive  and 
lucrative  practice,  could  be  content  with  the 
quiet  life  of  a  Judge.  But  each  nature  knows  its 
own  wants  and  its  own  pleasures.  We  have  heard 
it  often  stated  by  those  who  have  some  right  to 
speak  that  he  prefers  the  quiet  freedom  of  his 
Canton  home,  of  country  life,  to  that  of  the  city, 
the  association  and  associations  of  his  early  life 
to  those  of  the  city,  and  also  that  his  judge  life 


Judge  Leslie  W.  Russell  219 

is  quite  agreeable  to  him.  If  so,  then  surely  no 
one  should  complain,  since  the  people  in  losing 
an  attorney  have  secured  an  able  Judge,  litigants 
a  learned  and  impartial  arbiter.  If  Judge  Bus- 
sell  is  to  follow  the  life  of  the  Judge  it  is  to  be 
hoped  that  he  may  yet  receive  that  advancement 
to  which  his  learning  and  eminent  qualifications 
justly  entitle  him.  It  should  be  so  hoped,  not 
from  any  personal  reasons,  but  for  the  good  of 
the  state  and  nation.  The  higher  the  court,  the 
greater  his  usefulness.  But  few  men  are  called 
to  the  Supreme  Court  at  Washington  who  are  his 
superiors  in  learning,  erudition  or  in  ability  to 
grasp  and  solve  great  questions.  He  would  honor 
even  that  court  fully  as  much  or  more  than  a  seat 
there  would  honor  him. 


NOTE — The  foregoing  ,was  published  soon  after  Judge 
Russell's  elevation  to  the  bench.  I  now,  in  February,  1907, 
continue  the  sketch  a  little  further: 

In  fact,  I  do  not  believe  that  half  the  Judges 
on  that  bench  were  his  superiors  in  broad  and 
comprehensive  knowledge  of  the  law  and  its 
basic  principles,  in  ability  to  throw  aside  the 
chaff  and  rubbish  which  encumber  every  case,  and 
see  only  the  point  upon  which  the  case  really 
stands  and  must  be  decided.  In  this  faculty,  he 
far  excelled  any  lawyer  that  I  ever  knew.  Pos 
sessing  it,  he  never  wasted  his  time  or  his  ener 
gies  pursuing  side  issues  or  tangents.  Seeing  the 
real  and  true  point  or  principle,  no  matter  how 
hidden  or  involved  or  complicated  the  case  might 


220  Letters-Essays 


be,  he  bent  all  his  energies  to  its  elucidation  and 
establishment. 

Then,  too,  he  possessed  the  most  intuitive  legal 
mind  that  I  ever  met.  It  seemed  to  work  by  in 
duction,  readily  and  at  once  comprehending  the 
situation,  marshalling  the  facts  and  the  law, 
seeing  his  way  from  the  beginning  to  the  end. 
But  few  men  are  given  such  power  of  insight.  He 
possessed  a  most  masterful  brain.  Had  he  not 
gone  on  the  bench,  and,  had  he  kept  on  with  his 
practice  in  New  York  City,  he  certainly  would, 
in  a  few  years,  have  taken  equal  rank  with  the 
greatest  lawyers  of  his  time. 

Nature  was  lavish  in  her  endowments  to  him, 
both  physically  and  mentally.  When  a  young 
man  he  was  an  intellectual  Apollo  to  look  upon 
and,  in  later  life,  an  intellectual  giant.  His  poise 
and  carriage,  on  the  street  or  in  the  court  room, 
were  superb,  impressing  all  with  the  power  and 
majesty  of  the  man.  But  few  strangers  could 
meet  him  <on  the  street  without  turning  to  look 
at  him  as  he  passed  on.  I  saw  him  once  walk 
ing  up  Broadway  in  New  York  City.  He  then 
had  on  a  silk  hat,  which  added  to  his  imposing 
presence.  There  was  a  vast  throng  of  people 
upon  the  street,  and  at  least  half  of  those  he  met 
turned  to  look  upon  him,  or  tried  to  stop  and  do 
so,  but  could  not  for  the  moving  crowd.  He  did 
not  see  me,  but  I  was  proud  of  him,  and  said  to 
those  about  me:  "  That  is  Judge  Russell  of  St. 
Lawrence  County." 


Judge  Leslie  W.  Russell  221 

He  was  kind  to  me  in  my  practice,  and  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  pay  him  this  little  tribute. 

It  is  strange  indeed  that  of  one  so  great  and 
able,  so  little  should  be  said  on  his  departure. 
His  going  created  a  great  void,  at  least  in  the 
legal  world,  but  somehow  it  moves  on  just  the 
same.  It  was  not  so  in  earlier  times.  Then  they 
would  have  given  him  a  tomb  or  a  monument. 
He  resigned  from  the  Bench  in  September,  1902, 
and  returned  to  New  York  City  to  resume  the 
practice  of  the  law,  where  he  died  February  3, 
1903. 

The  Bar  of  St.  Lawrence  County,  on  Judge 
Eussell's  resignation  from  the  Bench,  issued  a 
pamphlet  containing  speeches  and  resolutions 
highly  complimentary  to  the  Judge,  and  to  his 
ability  and  career  as  a  jurist. 


Japan  anb  IRussia 


Mar  a  Divine 


OR  the  past  eight  months  these  two  powers 
have  been,  and  are  now,  in  a  bitter,  heart 
less  and  almost  savage  struggle  to  do  the 
other  to  death.  Neither  has  so  far  done 
any  fighting  on  its  own  soil  to  repel  an  invasion 
or  to  defend  its  people  or  their  homes  from  the 
savagery  of  invading  hosts.  No,  it  is  not  a  war 
in  defense  of  women  and  children,  of  homes,  vil 
lages  and  cities,  temples,  idols  or  gods,  which  are 
alone  the  only  wars  that  can  be  defended  or  justi 
fied  if  the  life,  precepts  and  teachings  of  Christ 
be  what  the  most  of  us  believe.  If  man,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  his  highest  state  of  enlightenment 
and  civilization,  be  only  a  veneered  animal  or 
savage,  as  a  good  many  of  late  are  maintaining, 
and  as  the  conduct  of  some  people  every  now  and 
then  would  seem  to  indicate,  then  we  must  expect 
wars  for  many  centuries  to  come,  certainly  until 
the  sense  of  right,  of  justice  and  of  decency  shall 
have  subdued  or  supplanted  the  animal  passions 
of  our  natures. 


Japan  and  Russia 


The  Japanese  empire  consists  entirely  of  islands 
just  off  the  eastern  coast  of  Asia.  The  full  extent 
of  her  territory  in  square  miles  is  one  hundred  and 
sixty-two  thousand,  six  hundred  and  sixty-five, 
just  a  trifle  larger  than  our  six  New  England 
States  with  Pennsylvania  and  New  York  added. 
All  her  islands  are  of  volcanic  origin  and  quite  a 
part  of  them  are  so  mountainous  and  barren  as 
to  be  of  no  service  in  the  support  of  her  people. 
And  yet  on  this  limited  territory  there  are  about 
forty  three  millions  of  people,  while  the  popula 
tion  of  the  eight  states  named  does  not  exceed 
twenty  millions.  In  other  words  there  are  two 
hundred  and  sixty-five  people  in  Japan  to  every 
square  mile,  while  in  said  states  there  are  about 
one  hundred  and  thirty-five.  The  Japanese  are 
small  in  stature  as  compared  with  the  English 
race.  They  live  very  largely  on  fruit,  vegetables, 
rice  and  dried  fish,  and  yet,  as  plainly  shown  in 
the  war  now  raging,  are  equal,  if  not  superior,  to 
the  meat  eating  Eussian  in  bearing  a  soldier's 
hardships  and  privations. 

They  have  two  kinds  of  religion.  The  one  ac 
cepted  by  the  wealthy  and  ruling  classes  is  called 
Shintoism.  As  near  as  I  can  make  out,  its  main 
principles  or  doctrines  consist  very  largely  of 
ancestor  worship.  The  other  is  Buddhism,  which 
is  the  religion  of  the  masses.  It  was  imported 
from  China  at  an  early  date.  It  had  its  origin  in 
Hindostan  about  six  centuries  before  the  Chris 
tian  era.  It  had  a  founder  to  whom  has  been 


224  Letters-Essays 


given  the  name  Buddha.  With  his  followers 
Buddha  holds  about  the  same  position  as  Christ 
with  Christian  people.  It  is  a  world  religion  since 
it  has  a  greater  following  than  any  other,  having 
some  four  hundred  million  believers,  or  one- 
third  the  population  of  the  world.  Their  Biblical 
writings  consist  of  Chronicles  found  several 
centuries  ago  written  in  Sanscrit  and  contain 
many  precepts  or  rules  for  living,  similar  to  those 
of  our  own  Bible.  Their  main  doctrine  is  that  of 
the  transmigration  of  souls.  When  a  person  dies 
his  or  her  soul  instantly  takes  on  the  form  of 
some  animal  or  object  in  degree  or  rank  accord 
ing  to  his  or  her  state  of  perfection.  The  soul  of 
the  bad  and  relatively  bad  go  into  the  bowels 
of  the  earth  to  remain  for  a  stated  time,  depend 
ing  on  their  degree  of  wickedness. 

In  the  'sixteenth  century  the  Catholics  secured 
a  footing  in  Japan  and  continued  their  proselyt 
ing  work  for  about  a  hundred  years,  when  the 
Japanese  rose  up  for  some  reason  and  butchered 
all  their  converts  except  those  who  escaped,  some 
five  hundred  thousand  in  all.  This  done,  Japan 
shut  her  ports  to  the  outside  world  and  remained 
in  total  isolation  from  the  world  for  over  two  hun 
dred  years.  Thus  she  remained  till  1854,  when 
Commodore  Perry,  making  a  tour  of  the  world 
with  American  warships,  somehow  got  into  her 
main  port,  where  he  remained  till  he  had  gained 
her  friendly  feeling  and  a  treaty  of  reciprocal 
intercourse  and  trade.  Perry's  salute  broke  the 


Japan   and  Russia  225 

spell  which  had  enthralled  her  for  centuries. 
Sleeping,  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  in  fifty  years, 
only  fifty,  has  climbed  up  to  the  position  of  a  first- 
class  world  power. 

Not  many  years  after  Mr.  Perry's  visit,  mis 
sionaries  of  the  Christian  church  began  their 
work  again,  which  they  have  kept  up  to  this 
time  with  fair  success,  though  it  will  take  untold 
ages,  if  it  can  ever  be  fully  done,  to  replace  their 
crude  religions  with  our  own.  If  there  be  one 
thing  for  which  man  of  whatever  race,  blood  or 
clime  is  more  tenacious  than  any  other  it  is  his 
right  and  freedom  to  get  into  the  next  world  in 
just  the  way  he  chooses  and  believes  will  surely 
get  him  there.  Indeed,  it  is  a  very  great  con 
cession  where  an  ignorant  and  bigoted  govern 
ment  or  people  will  freely  permit  the  devotees  of 
another  and  strange  religion  to  come  in  and  work 
to  displace  their  own. 

The  government  with  which  Japan  is  contend 
ing  is  one  of  the  very  oldest  and  strongest  among 
the  great  powers  of  the  world.  Eussia  is  an  ab 
solute  and  autocratic  monarchy,  and  as  such 
should  be  dethroned.  There  is  no  occasion  for 
such  a  government,  especially  in  such  an  old 
country  as  Europe,  in  this  day  of  liberty  and  en 
lightenment.  Her  territory  comprises  eight  mil 
lion  six  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  square  miles, 
one-sixth  of  the  land  surface  of  the  globe,  or 
about  twice  the  size  of  the  United  States.  Her 
population  is  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  million, 


226  Letters-Essays 


or  nearly  four  times  that  of  Japan.  Her  religion 
descended  from  the  Greeks,  and  is  commonly 
known  as  the  Graeco-Russian.  The  name  given 
to  it  officially,  that  is,  the  established  religion, 
is  the  Orthodox-Catholic,  which  accepts  the 
Judean  Bible  and  Christ  as  the  Saviour.  The 
church  and  state  are  tied  and  intertwined  to 
gether  and  have  been  for  more  than  a  thousand 
years,  to  the  injury  of  both  and  the  great  demoral 
ization  and  degredation  of  the  masses. 

For  some  years  we  have  been  told  by  newspaper 
correspondents,  magazine  writers  and  lecturers 
a  sad,  pitiful  and  horrible  story  of  the  venality 
and  corruption  of  her  official  classes,  of  the  ex 
actions  of  her  rulers,  of  the  oppression  and  priva 
tions  of  the  masses,  and  so  persistently  that  many 
people,  here  in  this  country  at  least,  look  upon 
the  Russian  government  as  a  giant  monster,  with 
out  heart,  without  conscience  or  soul.  Her  nobil 
ity  and  "  blooded  "  classes  are  all  over  her  do 
minions,  holding  any  and  all  offices  to  be  filled. 
They  have  the  first  right  to  all  positions  and 
are  exempt  from  tithes  and  taxes  because  of  the 
"  blue  blood  "  in  their  veins. 

These  titled  aristocrats  pretend  to  feel  and  be 
lieve  that  they  are  sent  here  by  God  specially  to 
rule  and  live  on  the  toil  and  sacrifice  of  the  peo 
ple,  and,  until  within  the  last  hundred  years,  had 
but  little  trouble  in  making  their  benighted  sub 
jects  believe  it.  But  the  day  is  coming,  and  it  is 
not  far  off  either,  when  no  one  will  believe  it  or 


Japan   and  Russia  227 

submit  to  it.  However,  I  suspect  that  the  pri 
vation,  poverty  and  distress  of  her  peasantry  are 
not  so  terrible  as  it  has  been  pictured  to  us, 
otherwise,  now  that  a  large  part  of  her  army  has 
been  sent  to  the  Far  East,  there  would  be  upris 
ings  of  the  masses  all  over  her  dominions.  We 
have  all  been  looking  for  revolts,  but  so  far  heard 
of  none.  It  may  be  that  they  are  so  crushed  and 
broken  by  a  thousand  years  of  tyranny  and  op 
pression  that,  fearing  an  exile  home  in  northern 
Siberia,  they  dare  not  rise.  Then,  too,  as  we 
know,  a  lieutenant  with  six  disciplined  men 
backed  by  the  government,  can  control  a  mob 
of  five  thousand,  as  was  shown  in  the  Chicago 
riots. 

Really,  we  know  but  little  of  the  actual  con 
dition  of  the  masses  in  Russia.  No  one  can  get 
in  there  or  out  without  passports  or  giving  an 
account  of  himself,  so  fearful  is  the  government 
that  revolts  will  be  incited.  Is  that  not  a  pretty 
state  of  things? 

Napoleon  on  the  barren  Isle  of  St.  Helena,  only 
eighty-five  years  ago,  dispirited  and  disconsolate, 
awakened  from  one  of  his  deep  reveries,  said  that 
he  was  studying  Europe  and  its  future,  that,  as 
he  saw  it,  "  Europe  would  ultimately  become  all 
Cossack  or  all  Republican. ' '  Napoleon  was  a  wise 
man,  but  not  quite  wise  enough  to  leave  out  the 
word  Cossack  in .  his  prediction.  Perhaps  his 
awful  experience  when  invading  Russia  made  him 
overestimate  her  power  to  rule  the  world.  It 


228  Letters-Essays 


cannot  be  that  the  perfidy  and  venality  of  her 
rulers  throughout  the  empire  were  then  anything 
like  what  they  are  reported  to  be  now,  or  he  would 
not,  wise  as  he  was,  have  predicted  that  she 
would  at  some  time  rule  all  Europe. 

As  soon  as  the  present  war  began,  for  some 
unaccountable  reason,  unless  it  be  that  it  is  hu 
man  nature  to  sympathize  with  the  smaller  dog 
in  the  fight,  pretty  nearly  every  one  in  this 
country  tendered  his  sympathy  and  moral  sup 
port  to  Japan,  which  they  are  still  continuing  to 
do.  Our  officials  at  Washington  and  our  mighty 
manufacturers  may,  and  perhaps  justly,  be 
alarmed  at  a  secure  footing  by  Eussia  in  eastern 
China  for  our  trade  and  commerce.  Could  Rus 
sia  have  carried  out  her  designs  or  should  she 
yet  in  Manchuria,  which  is  a  province  of  the 
Chinese  empire  and  about  three  times  the  size 
of  this  state,  it  would  or  will  give  her  an  almost 
commanding  position  in  that  eastern  world. 
Japan  is  there  and  saw  it.  She  is  overcrowded 
and  must  have  room  for  her  people.  There  is  no 
where  for  them  to  go  except  across  the  channel 
to  Corea,  which  is  another  province  of  China, 
about  the  size  of  our  New  England  states.  In  her 
war  with  China,  which  she  provoked  or  at  least 
invited  in  1894-5,  she  won  and  China  ceded  Corea 
to  her.  After  it  was  done,  Russia,  Germany  and 
France  made  her  cede  it  back  and  take  a  cash 
indemnity  instead,  the  payment  of  which  Russia 
guaranteed. 


Japan  and  Russia  229 

France  and  Germany  are  giving  Russia  their 
sympathy  and  moral  support,  and  not  only  this, 
but  giving  her  cash  for  bonds  to  carry  on  the 
war.  England  and  our  own  country  are  doing 
the  same  for  Japan.  If  Russia  succeeds  in  this 
war  it  means  a  much  earlier  dismemberment  of 
China  than  if  Japan  succeeds.  England  and  this 
country  seem  disposed  to  put  off  this  event  as 
far  as  possible.  England,  France  and  Germany 
now  control  almost  all  of  China's  southern  sea 
ports  and  practically  control  her  trade  and  com 
merce  in  inland  waters. 

Poor  China!  Her  doom  is  sealed.  The  great 
powers  would  chop  her  up  and  divide  her  if  they 
could  only  get  up  a  plausible  excuse  and  agree 
on  a  division.  Japan  nor  Russia  has  a  scintilla 
of  right  to  be  over  in  Manchuria  carrying  on  such 
a  war  as  they  are  waging.  Each  is  doing  it  to 
rob  the  third  party  of  her  territory.  It  is  very 
much  as  it  would  be  were  the  states  of  New  York 
and  Illinois  to  go  to  war  and  carry  it  on  in  Ohio. 
Japan  nor  Russia  is  suffering  the  pains  and  hor 
rors  of  war  as  yet  like  the  poor  and  innocent 
peasantry  of  Manchuria.  The  hell  of  war  is 
principally  where  war  is. 

But  why  do  such  a  great  per  cent  of  our  peo 
ple  sympathize  with  Japan  and  wish  them  suc 
cess?  When  the  war  began  most  people  thought 
that  Russia  would  whip  Japan  in  three  months. 
Was  it  this  feeling  that  excited  our  sympathy? 
If  so  it  should  be  on  the  wane  now,  since  the  Japs 


230  Letters-Essays 


have  won  every  battle  except  the  last,  when 
honors  were  about  even. 

What  Russia  has  most  to  dread,  as  I  see  it,  is 
internal  discord  and  revolution.  If  the  war 
should  continue  for  a  considerable  period,  I  doubt 
very  much  if  she  can  avert  or  suppress  internal 
revolt  unless  she  at  least  grants  to  the  people  a 
few  of  the  ordinary  rights  and  privileges  en 
joyed  by  civilized  people  in  other  governments. 
May  be  that  would  be  worth  the  cost. 

Is  there  not  as  much  to  be  feared  in  the  su 
premacy  of  the  yellow  race  as  in  that  of  the  Cos 
sack  f  If  Japan  should  win  and  be  allowed  by  the 
Christian  governments  to  reap  the  full  reward  of 
her  victory  she  would  and  will  in  a  few  years 
dominate  all  that  section  of  the  globe.  She  is  a 
potent  factor  there  now.  Her  people  are  quite 
numerous  already  in  China.  A  large  per  cent,  of 
the  officers  in  the  Chinese  army  are  Japanese. 
Should  she  win  and  be  allowed  to  have  her  way 
it  would  not  be  half  a  century  before  she  would 
control  absolutely  the  vast  domain  of  the  Chinese 
empire,  probably  the  richest  section  of  the  planet. 
Should  she  once  get  that  empire  in  her  hands, 
remain  pagan  and  continue  as  relentless  in  war 
as  at  present,  what  might  she  at  a  not  distant 
day  say  to  all  Europe?  She  would  be  supreme 
mistress  of  all  Asia. 

When  the  war  began  the  potentates  of  Russia 
in  full  regalia  went  into  the  old  and  consecrated 
cathedrals  of  Moscow  and  other  cities,  where  their 


Japan   and  Russia  231 

predecessors  in  office  had  gone  on  similar  er 
rands  for  more  than  a  thousand  years,  and  on 
bended  knee  and  in  suppliant  prayer  communed 
with  God,  or  thought  they  did,  asking  and  be 
seeching  his  help  to  crush  those  meddlesome 
pagan  Japs.  Whether  they  could  reach  Him 
with  such  a  prayer  on  their  lips  is  certainly  one 
of  grave  doubt.  However,  they  must  have 
thought  that  they  had  secured  His  help,  for  they 
recklessly  and  incontinently  went  to  war,  evi 
dently  relying  more  on  Him  than  on  proper  prep 
aration  and  thus  far  have  been  terribly  beaten. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  poor,  benighted  Japs 
went  into  their  pagan  temples  and  as  fervently 
prayed  and  implored  their  images  of  Deity  to 
help  them  to  take  deadly  aim  at  every  Russian's 
heart,  and  thus  far  they  have  shot  well.  But  can 
it  be  that  their  aim  was  helped  by  their  prayers 
or  that  God  would  help  a  pagan  people  to  de 
stroy  a  Christian,  saying  nothing  of  the  question 
of  right  f  It  must  be  conceded,  I  think,  by  every 
one  outside  Russia  and  Japan  that  neither  of 
them  is  in  the  right.  Each  is  seeking  to  steal 
and  take  a  large  territory  from  China.  In  such 
a  struggle  it  would  hardly  seem  that  God  would 
help  either,  even  if  approached  by  a  million  daily 
prayers. 

There  are  vast  numbers  of  women,  at  least 
Christian  women,  and  a  great  many  men,  whose 
natures  are  so  gentle,  sympathetic  and  loving  that 
they  cannot  see  why  wars  should  be  or  why  God 


232  Letters-Essays 


permits  them,  nor  would  they  believe  that  He 
ever  had  or  does,  were  it  not  for  the  Book  of 
Joshua  in  our  own  Bible,  where  we  are  told  that 
He  directed  Joshua  "  to  lay  thee  an  ambush  " 
that  he  might  fall  upon  his  enemy  unawares,  and 
caused  the  sun  to  stand  still  in  the  midst  of 
heaven  about  a  whole  day  that  he  (Joshua) 
might  slaughter  and  avenge  himself  upon  his 
enemies. 

The  slaughter  and  butchering,  suffering  and 
anguish  that  have  taken  place  during  the  past 
eight  months  is  something  awful,  something  ap 
palling,  surpassing  anything  in  all  modern  war 
fare  at  least,  if  not  in  all  history.  Since  the  Japs 
have  been  victorious  in  every  engagement  from 
the  start,  does  it  not  tend  to  show  that  if  prayer 
be  efficacious  in  war  that  God  helps  those  in  the 
right,  though  they  be  pagan! 

NOTE — The  war  began  in  or  about  March,  1904,  and 
continued  with  unrelenting  and  unceasing  fury,  bloody  and 
terrible,  till  the  summer  of  1905,  when,  through  the  good 
offices  of  our  own  President  Roosevelt,  Russia  and  Japan 
each  sent  three  delegates  to  a  Convention  which  sat  at 
Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  in  August,  1905,  and  in  the  first  days  of 
September  perfected  a  treaty  or  terms  of  peace.  The  Japs 
were  victorious  in  every  engagement  except  one,  and  that  was 
a  drawn  battle. 


XCbe  Spiber  anfc  flfoan 


Us  flIMgbt  a  Divine  principle  Governing 
animal  Xife? 


UST  outside  my  window  and  parallel  with 
and  close  to  the  glass  a  spider  has  spun 
his  web  with  the  art  of  the  weaver,  the 
skill  of  the  mechanic  and  the  design 
of  a  civil  engineer.  There  are  spokes  or  radii  ex 
tending  from  a  small  circle  in  the  center,  which 
are  securely  attached  to  the  sash,  round  about 
which  they  are  made  fast  and  taut.  Begin 
ning  at  the  center  and  extending  outward  for 
some  six  inches  are  circular  or  cross  lines  extend 
ing  from  each  spoke  or  arm  to  the  next  and  com 
pleting  the  circle.  These  cross  lines  are  securely 
attached  to  the  spokes  and  made  taut,  giving  the 
web  as  a  whole  an  octagonal  appearance.  As 
every  one  has  seen  these  webs,  and  as  most  of 
us  have  deeply  wondered  many  times  over  the 
skill  and  mechanism  shown  in  their  building,  I 
do  not  need  to  be  more  specific  in  my  description 
of  them  for  the  purposes  which  I  have  in  mind. 


234  Letters-Essays 


Sitting  at  my  desk  I  cannot  look  out  upon  the 
river  and  fields  and  feast  my  eyes,  and  through 
them  by  a  mysterious  agency,  my  consciousness, 
without  viewing  and  watching  this  Ajax  at  his 
work.  Seeing  that  he  has  plan,  method,  ability 
to  adapt  means  to  his  ends,  ceaseless  and  eternal 
vigilance  and  a  cruel  and  murderous  impulse, 
has  awakened  in  me  a  train  of  thought  not  alto 
gether  pleasing  or  beautiful  perhaps,  yet  so 
potent  and  suggestive  as  to  put  me  into  a  deep, 
meditative  mood. 

Who  taught  him  how  to  spin  and  weave  the 
web,  how  to  build  the  net  with  so  much  skill  and 
precision  in  mechanism,  out  in  space,  without 
ladder  or  staging,  to  make  the  threads  taut  and 
to  tie  them  to  the  sash  and  to  one  another  se 
curely?  Do  the  older  spiders  teach  their  young 
how  to  do  these  things,  as  man  is  required  and 
compelled  to  teach  his  young  with  great  and 
tedious  patience!  Does  nature  or  God  endow 
them  with  all  these  qualities  on  creation  or  do 
they  slowly  come  to  them  as  a  necessity  from 
their  needs,  condition  and  environments?  There 
are  many  species  of  spider  and  many  classes  of 
each  specie  scattered  over  the  world.  Did  they 
all  spring  from  one  stem  or  was  there  a  special 
creation  for  each  class  or  specie?  Did  Noah  take 
him  and  his  spouse  into  the  ark? 

Though  these  questions  arise  to  me  as  I  con 
template  this  demon  at  his  work,  I  do  not  ask 
them  for  the  purpose  of  answering  them  for  I 


The  Spider  and  Man  235 

cannot.  Man  in  his  complacency,  all  importance 
and  self  sufficiency,  does  not  see  and  cannot  un 
derstand  why  they  were  made  at  all  or  what 
useful  office  or  purpose  they  serve  in  life.  He 
thinks,  and  not  only  thinks  but  knows,  that  this 
planet  was  made  for  him,  and  he  cannot  make 
out  why  tigers,  wolves,  snakes,  spiders,  flies, 
mosquitoes,  gnats,  etc.,  were  sent  here  to  live  with, 
to  pester  and  annoy  him.  The  coming  of  all 
these  animals,  especially  those  that  are  ferocious 
and  a  terror  to  man,  greatly  perplexed  and 
troubled  all  thinking  men  from  the  earliest 
times  of  recorded  thought,  particularly  after 
Christianity  had  gained  sway,  and  much  more  so 
in  those  early  days  than  it  has  thinking  men  in 
more  recent  times,  though  it  is  still  an  annoying 
problem. 

For  many  centuries  it  was  stoutly  maintained 
by  the  clergy  and  others  that  their  coming,  feroc 
ity  and  poisonous  bite  were  a  direct  visitation 
upon  man  for  his  transgressions.  John  Wesley, 
the  father  of  Methodism,  as  late  >as  the  sixteenth 
century,  affirmed  that  until  the  fall  of  man  the 
spider  was  as  innocent  and  harmless  as  a  fly.  Sci 
ence  has  long  since  dissipated  all  such  nonsense. 
Scientific  research  and  study  have  in  very  recent 
years  pretty  securely  established  the  doctrine  of 
the  unity  of  all  animal  life.  Even  Count  Tolstoi, 
the  great  Eussian  philosopher  and  religious 
writer,  has  just  issued  a  volume  supporting  this 
proposition  to  which  he  has  added  its  sacredness. 


236  Letters-Essays 


They  are  here  and  by  right,  since  surely  the  same 
force  or  power  which  brought  forth  man  created 
them.  The  life  they  bear  is  as  great  a  mystery 
and  wonder  as  is  that  of  which  man  so  proudly 
boasts.  The  principle  of  life  in  the  spider  is  just 
as  insoluble  as  in  man,  just  as  subtle  and  mysteri 
ous,  and  for  aught  that  I  can  see,  considering  his 
abilities,  his  life  and  conduct,  just  about  as  gentle 
and  humane. 

But  why  did  he  build  that  mechanical  web  so 
admirably  adapted  for  his  uses?  Did  he  con 
struct  it  as  a  home?  No,  not  at  all.  He  needs 
shelter  as  well  as  man,  at  least  in  this  climate. 
Watch  him  and  you  will  see  his  home  is  in  a 
crevice  in  the  casing  of  the  window.  Thump 
the  glass  when  he  is  out  on  his  "  preserve  "  and 
he  instantly  rushes  over  the  web  and  up  one  of 
the  long  arms,  never  mistaking  the  right  one, 
to  his  shelter,  his  hiding,  his  home.  The  web  does 
not  adhere  to  or  tangle  his  feet,  no  matter  how 
swiftly  he  goes  over  it.  Why  not?  Let  any 
other  insect  try  it  and  there  is  a  tragedy.  Who 
designed  his  feet  and  what  is  their  peculiarity 
that  the  web  should  not  stick  to  them  as  it  does 
to  everything  else?  Do  his  feet  exude  an  oil 
that  prevents,  or  is  it  due  to  their  construction? 

But  why  the  web  at  the  cost  of  so  much  toil 
and  labor?  Watch  matters  for  a  little  and  we 
will  learn.  We  cannot  see  him.  He  is  back  in 
the  casing,  but  not  sleeping.  Whether  he  watches 
the  web  with  his  eyes  or  holds  one  of  its  threads 


The  Spider  and  Man  237 

in  his  hands  to  tell  him  of  any  disturbance  I  do 
not  know.  A  fly,  fooled  by  the  glass  which  he  does 
not  see,  and  thinking  the  window  an  open  way, 
sails  into  the  web  in  his  flight.  The  instant  he 
touches  the  web,  he  is  caught  and,  weak  and 
puerile  as  is  his  tiny  brain  and  intelligence,  he 
seems  to  know  that  it  means  murder  to  him.  How 
he  struggles  to  get  away,  and  the  more  he  strug 
gles  the  more  he  becomes  entangled.  Quick  as 
a  flash  out  from  his  hiding  comes  the  black  and 
cruel  demon,  and  with  lightning  speed  rushes 
upon  him.  Fastening  his  jaws,  he  quietly  holds 
him  till  life  ebbs  slowly  away,  when  he  winds  him 
with  web  for  future  consumption.  If  the  fly  was 
a  strong  one  and  did  much  damage  to  the  web, 
the  spider  repairs  it  before  retreating  to  his  lair. 
If  not,  he  goes  at  once  to  watch  and  await  another 
victim,  and  thus  the  slaughter  of  one  day  follows 
another  through  the  warm  season,  when  he  dis 
appears.  What  becomes  of  him  or  how  he  lives 
through  the  winter  I  do  not  know.  Whether  he 
can  hibernate  or  whether  he  salts  his  victims 
down  as  man  does  pork  for  winter  use  I  cannot 
answer. 

How  we,  especially  women,  hate  him!  The 
cruel,  nasty  thing,  the  latter  cry  out  as  they  rush 
for  a  broom  with  which  to  sweep  him  and  his  web 
out  of  doors.  Is  our  contempt  due  to  his  native 
ugliness,  murderous  life,  reputation  for  having 
a  poisonous  bite  or  to  his  web,  clean  in  itself,  yet 
in  our  homes  an  evidence  of  laziness  and  sloth- 


238  Letters-Essays 


fulness  in  the  housekeeper  since  time  began? 
Probably  our  hatred  of  him  is  due  to  all  these, 
yet  how  silly  and  ridiculous,  foolish  and  absurd 
for  Christian  man  to  harbor  ill  will  and  feeling 
toward  him  on  account  of  his  living  by  murder. 

The  same  power  or  agency  that  endowed  man 
with  his  superior  intelligence  gave  him  the  ap 
paratus  to  spin  the  thread  and  the  ability  to 
weave  the  web  and  for  the  express  purpose  of 
ensnaring  weaker  insects  that  he  might  get  a  liv 
ing  in  this  cold  and  cruel  world.  For  us  to  criti 
cise  his  mode  of  life  is  to  impugn  the  great  cre 
ative  force  which  we  attribute  to  nature  or  to 
God.  And  since  we  cannot  solve  or  even  under 
stand  the  mystery  of  our  own  life,  it  surely  would 
be  silly  and  even  contemptuous  to  charge  that 
the  spider's  life  or  way  of  living  is  purposeless 
or  wrong. 

No,  we  cannot  do  that  and  for  other  reasons 
than  the  common  origin  of  the  spider  and  man. 
Cruel,  pitiless  and  merciless  warfare  seems  to 
have  been  the  design  in  the  creation  of  animal  life 
from  the  beginning.  To  live  has  been  and  still  is 
one  eternal  struggle  among  them.  One  animal 
seems  to  have  been  designed  and  created  as  food 
for  another.  About  half  of  the  animal  creation  is 
herbivorous,  non-combative,  weak  in  self-defense 
and  the  common  prey  and  food  of  their  stronger 
and  more  voracious  associates.  Why  it  is  so  or 
should  be  so  we  do  not  understand.  It  seems  to 
be  and  I  am  tempted  to  say  is  cruel  and  wicked, 


The  Spider  and  Man  239 

heartless,  awful.  Why  should  one  animal  be 
chased,  hounded,  killed  and  eaten  by  another, 
and  that  other  in  turn  by  a  superior?  From  the 
jungles  of  India,  Africa,  South  America  to  our 
own  land  and  times,  even  as  in  the  sea,  also,  this 
ferocious,  bitter  and  eternal  struggle  has  been 
and  is  still  going  on.  If  it  be  that  all  redounds  to 
man,  why  so  many  venomous  and  poisonous  rep 
tiles,  flies,  mosquitoes,  gnats,  etc.,  that  pester  him, 
fierce  and  voracious  animals  of  which  he  is  afraid, 
none  of  which  are  a  food  or  of  any  use  to  him? 
Indeed,  they  kill  and  eat  other  animals  that  are 
of  use  and  a  food  for  man.  Until  man  developed 
sufficiently  to  construct  traps  and  invent  firearms 
the  struggle  between  him  and  the  more  ferocious 
animals  must  have  been  about  equal. 

But  if  this  game  of  warfare  be  all  for  the 
service  of  man,  why  were  all  those  animals  that 
were  designed  for  eating  by  others  given  a  nerv 
ous  system  and  filled  with  a  longing  to  live  and 
love  for  their  young?  Why  were  they  not  made 
dull  and  stupid,  so  that  they  would  not  have  fear 
or  concern  at  being  eaten?  That  surely  would 
have  been  a  kindness  to  them.  As  it  is  they  all 
love  their  young,  long  to  live,  dread  and  fear 
their  enemies  most  sincerely,  pathetically  and 
earnestly.  For  aught  we  can  see  these  qualities 
in  them  do  not  differ  materially  from  the  same 
qualities  in  men  except  it  be  in  degree  and  there 
may  be  honest  doubt  as  to  that.  See  the  fox  or 
rabbit  routed  from  his  retreat  by  a  Christian  and 


240  Letters-Essays 


his  dog.  Is  lie  not  afraid?  Does  he  not  know 
what  it  means  if  he  is  caught?  Does  he  not  want 
to  live?  How  he  runs  and  bounds!  How  swiftly 
he  turns  as  he  is  about  to  be  caught!  What  a 
sight,  says  the  hunter!  His  blood  is  as  hot  as  the 
dogs  and  there  is  not  much,  if  any,  difference  in 
their  feelings.  Why  this  thirst  in  the  man  at 
least  to  catch  and  to  kill!  If  it  be  a  rabbit  it 
will  be  thrown  aside.  If  a  fox,  the  skin  may  be 
taken,  but  the  hunter  could  have  earned  twice  its 
value  at  some  honest  labor. 

Nature,  after  creating  one  animal  to  eat  an 
other,  seems  to  have  had  some  remorse  for  the 
act,  since  she  helps  nearly  all  weaker  animals  to 
hide  from  their  enemies.  The  coat  of  the  deer, 
rabbit  and  other  animals  changes  with  the  sea 
sons  to  make  them  less  observable.  Here  we  see 
nature  trying  to  help  them,  to  save  them  from 
enemies  she  has  placed  among  them.  Nevertheless 
it  is  an  act  of  pure  pity  and  sympathy.  She 
would  not  after  all  be  entirely  cruel  and  heart 
less.  Perhaps  it  was  necessary  to  have  all  these 
ferocious  animals  and  perhaps,  in  the  adjustment 
of  things,  she  could  do  no  more  for  the  weaker 
ones. 

And  what  shall  I  say  of  man  along  these  lines? 
Is  he,  too,  a  spider  in  his  murderous  proclivities  ? 
Does  he  build  a  web  to  ensnare  his  associate  ani 
mals  ?  Does  he  take  their  life  and  eat  their  flesh  ? 
If  so,  is  he  less  murderous  than  the  spider  and 
tiger?  If  so,  is  not  the  act  purely  on  a  par  with 


The  Spider  and  Man  241 

that  of  the  spider  and  tiger?  In  India  the  tiger 
captures  and  lugs  away  in  his  jaws  to  his  den 
and  his  young  several  hundred  people  annually. 
He  sees  no  wrong  in  this.  He  would  as  soon  eat 
a  man  as  a  calf.  Ages  ago  when  tigers  were 
plenty  and  men  had  no  weapons  of  defense  but 
a  club,  they  were  no  doubt  eaten  by  thousands. 
To  us  it  appears  appalling,  awful;  but  he  takes 
them  as  food  and  by  reason  of  his  might,  which 
seems  to  be  the  law,  or  should  I  say  rule,  govern 
ing  all  life,  not  excepting  man.  Man  on  the  other 
hand  is  not  content  with  slaughter  for  food  alone, 
though  his  killing  for  this  purpose  is  something 
which  staggers  even  the  imagination  and  causes 
us  to  shudder.  On  every  farm  in  all  our  land, 
slaughter  of  various  animals  takes  place,  while 
in  a  single  packing  house  of  the  many  in  the  west, 
five  thousand  cattle,  sheep  and  swine  are  daily 
driven  to  the  block.  If  you  cannot  go  to  Chicago 
to  witness  that  awful  slaughter  or  do  not  wish  to 
do  so,  you  can  step  into  any  of  the  thousands  of 
meat  shops  in  all  the  villages  of  this  land  and  get 
a  little  idea  of  the  fearful  taking  of  life  that  is 
going  on.  They  are  dumb,  we  say  and  do  not 
mind  being  killed.  Dumb  they  may  be,  that  is, 
they  cannot  speak  our  language,  but  they  have 
utterances  of  affection  for  their  young,  of  fear  for 
their  enemies  and  of  anger.  Dumb  they  may  be, 
but  they,  at  least  the  cattle,  know  as  they  are 
forced  and  prodded  with  spikes  in  the  end  of 
poles  up  the  gangway  to  the  butcher  that  some- 


242  Letters-Essays 


thing  terrible  at  least  awaits  them.  How  some 
of  them  bellow  and  struggle  to  turn  back!  Even 
the  thought  of  so  much  slaughter  is  horrifying 
to  most  women  and  to  some  men.  It  is  to  me,  and 
I  could  not  do  it  unless  possibly  I  was  starving, 
and  I  think  I  would  starve  rather  than  to  kill  a 
lamb  with  a  knife.  Many  pictures  of  Jesus  have 
Him  with  a  lamb  in  His  arms  or  with  lambs  fol 
lowing  Him.  Why?  Because  they  are  so  gentle 
and  docile  and  look  to  man  for  protection  and 
because  they  are  the  common  prey  of  all  voracious 
animals. 

I  confess,  and  I  say  it  regretfully,  that  I  eat 
meat  myself,  but  seldom  since  I  was  grown  up 
without  misgivings  as  to  my  real  right  to  do  so. 
When  I  ask  myself  what  abstract  right  I  have 
to  'take  other  lives  to  feed  my  own  I  cannot 
answer,  except  the  ever  handy  one  of  might. 
And  yet  I  do  it  as  do  all  those  about  me.  That 
does  not  make  it  right,  but  it  is  a  mighty  help  to 
those  whose  consciences  are  pricking  them.  I 
know  I  could  live  and  live  well,  that  is,  thrive 
and  prosper,  without  it,  for  I  have  known  peo 
ple  who  did.  As  fine  a  family  of  father,  mother, 
son  and  daughter  as  I  have  known  for  size,  health 
ful  appearance  and  endurance  lived  on  an  adjoin 
ing  farm  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  never  ate  meat. 
There  are  many  others  scattered  here  and  there 
over  the  country  who  do  not,  some  of  whom  are 
athletes. 

More  than  half  the  people  of  the  world  do  not 


The  Spider  and  Man  243 

kill  other  animals  for  food.  The  sacred  books 
of  the  Buddhist  forbid  the  eating  of  meat,  which 
is  religiously  followed  by  the  vast  numbers  of 
that  faith.  The  Japanese,  who  are  fast  reaching 
a  first-class  power  position  in  the  world,  if  they 
have  not  already  done  so,  are  not  a  meat  eating 
people.  Thus  we  see  and  know  that  meat  is  not 
a  necessity  for  physical  vigor  or  national  growth. 
Is  it  not  consoling  and  comforting  to  find  one 
of  the  great  religions  of  the  world  disapproving 
and  forbidding  murder  by  man  for  food?  Do  they 
not  in  so  doing  honor  and  glorify  man  by  taking 
him  out  of  the  list  -of  animals,  most  of  which  live 
only  by  killing  another,  and  place  him  on  a  higher 
plane? 

Viewed  in  any  way  we  please,  this  bitter  and 
eternal  warfare  going  on  amongst  all  animals  from 
the  ant  up  to  the  lion  and  even  man,  is  more 
inexplicable  as  to  man  than  it  is  as  to  any  or  all 
other  forms  of  animal  life.  With  him  so  highly 
gifted  and  endowed  beyond  that  of  any  other 
species  of  animal,  I  cannot  keep  back  the  thought 
that  he  ought  or  should  in  some  way  live  differ 
ently  from  the  lower  animals  and  practice  a  dif 
ferent  means  and  mode  of  living.  On  the  con 
trary  he  does  not,  and  is  in  the  melee  of  murder 
with  the  others  and  the  worst  butcherer  of  all. 
Not  satisfied  with  killing  as  they  do  for  food,  un 
like  them  he  wantonly  kills  for  what  he  calls 
sport  and  amusement.  Notwithstanding  he  is  the 
only  one  in  the  lot  created  hi  the  image  of  the 


244  Letters-Essays 


Father  and  the  only  one  possessing  an  immortal 
soul,  as  many  believe,  yet,  strange  and  singular 
as  it  is,  is  the  only  one  that  deliberately  plans 
and  wages  systematic  and  organized  warfare  on 
his  own  species.  No  other  animal,  so  far  as  I  read, 
does  this.  They  seem  to  have  too  much  respect 
or  love,  or  whatever  it  may  be  called,  for  their 
own  kind  to  do  this.  But  man,  apparently,  has 
none.  With  all  his  endowments,  divine  and  men 
tal,  he  organizes  vast  armies,  invades  another  peo 
ple 's  territory  and  with  torch  and  gun  robs  and 
steals,  destroys  and  kills,  not  directly  for  food, 
but  for  glory,  territory  and  cussedness.  It  would 
seem  as  a  plain  proposition  that  civilized  men  at 
least  with  their  glorious  endowments  should  be 
above  such  brutality. 

The  poet,  whose  name  I  regret  that  I  am  un 
able  to  give,  has  well  phrased  this  propensity,  or 
should  I  say  weakness,  in  man  in  the  following 
lines : 

"  The  Falcon,  poised  on  trembling  wing 
"  Watches  the  wild  duck  by  the  spring. 
"  The  slow  Hound  wakes  the  fox's  lair, 
11  The  Greyhound  presses  on  the  Hare. 
' '  Even  Tiger  fell  and  sullen  Bear 
11  Their  likeness  and  their  lineage  spare, 
"  Man,  only,  mars  kind  Nature's  plan 
"  And  turns  his  fierce  pursuit  on  man." 
If  the  great  fundamental  principle  governing 
animal  life  is  might,  then  to  the  victor  in  the 
struggle  belongs  the  spoils  and  there  is  no  place 


The  Spider  and  Man  245 

for  pity.  He  who  can  kill  another  by  skill,  strat 
egy  or  superior  power,  if  that  be  true,  has  a 
moral  right  to  the  body  of  the  defeated  as  food. 
To  isome  the  mere  thought  of  such  a  doctrine  as 
a  moral  principal  is  revolting.  If  it  be  sound, 
then  there  is  nothing  wrong  in  the  life  of  the 
spider  or  in  that  of  the  tiger  rushing  away  over 
the  hills  with  a  woman  or  child  in  its  jaws.  If 
it  be  not  sound,  why  should  there  be  so  many 
fierce  and  voracious  animals  who  cannot  live  ex 
cept  they  kill,  and  why  so  many  weak  and  de 
fenseless  animals?  If  it  be  not  sound  how  can 
we  justify  this  fearful  and  awful  slaughter  by 
man. 

If  needs  it  must  be  that  this  butchery  by  man 
be  intended  and  right,  then  surely  it  should  never 
be  'accompanied  by  pain  or  torture.  Surely  man 
can  afford  to  kill  "  kindly  and  humanely  "  since 
their  lives,  sweet  to  them,  are  forcibly  taken  that 
he  may  feast  and  continue  his  own. 


H  flfcerican  Bull 


N  our  trip  to  California  we  stopped  a  day 
at  El  Paso,  Texas.  I  cannot  just  tell 
why  we  did,  and  after  doing  so  have 
been  unable  to  discover  the  reason. 
Really,  I  suppose,  it  was  due  to  the  fact  that  we 
heard  so  many  fellow  excursionists  saying  that 
they  were  going  to  do  so.  It  is  a  cheap,  dusty, 
dirty,  "  razzle-dazzle "  city  of  some  thirty 
thousand  people,  but  is  a  great  railroad  centre. 
Fully  one-half  the  houses  are  one  story,  flat 
roofed,  and  built  of  adobe  brick. 

One  of  the  first  things  that  caught  our  eyes 
were  large  placards  on  the  street  cars  giving  the 
notice  of  a  bull  fight  the  next  day,  Sunday.  We 
were  both  surprised  and  pained  to  learn  that  such 
a  pastime  should  take  place  on  God's  holy  day. 
The  women  of  our  party  were  fairly  wild  in  their 
denunciation  of  bull  fights  at  all  and  especially 
on  Sunday.  I  wish  I  could  give  a  part  of  what 
they  said,  but  it  came,  as  usual,  so  fast  and  alto 
gether  that  I  see  I  have  lost  it  all,  except  "  terri 
ble,  cruel,  wicked,  horrible." 

Wishing  to  set  foot  on  Mexico,  we  took  the 
street  car  and  went  over  the  Rio  Grande  River  to 


A  Mexican  Bull  Fight  247 

Juarez,  a  mile  or  so  distant.  Reaching  there,  we 
soon  saw  a  great,  white  circular  building,  which 
somehow  we  all  knew  to  be  the  bull  ring.  It  must 
be  'two  hundred  feet  in  diameter,  with  an  outside 
wall  twenty-five  feet  in  height,  with  a  rising  roof 
extending  inward  only  far  enough  to  cover  the 
circle  of  seats.  Some  of  us  thought  we  would  go 
down  and  look  it  over  and  let  that  suffice.  As 
we  were  about  to  enter  the  stables  adjoining  the 
bull  ring  to  see  the  horses  and  bulls  that  were  to 
be  used  the  following  day,  we  were  startled  by 
familiar  voices, ' '  Hold  on,  we  want  to  go  in,  too. ' ' 
Looking  back,  we  were  not  only  surprised  but 
startled  to  find  those  who  had  most  loudly  de 
cried  against  bull  fighting,  on  the  run  to  get  in 
to  see  the  animals.  We  chided  them,  laughed  at 
them.  They  were  a  little  disconcerted  and  ex 
cused  themselves  by  saying,  "  We  wouldn't  see 
a  bull  fight  for  anything,  but  there  can  be  no  harm 
in  taking  a  look  at  tihe  animals."  As  the  first 
door  was  opened,  we  beheld  the  horses,  poor, 
long-haired,  emaciated,  worthless  and  so  weak  as 
to  be  barely  able  to  stand.  Two  of  us  turned 
back  and  would  go  no  further.  Those  who  hur 
ried  up  to  get  in  went  on  to  see  the  bulls.  The 
arena  where  the  fighting  is  done  is  circular  in 
form,  about  'one  hundred  feet  in  diameter,  with 
a  hard,  smooth  dirt  floor.  A  board  fence  six  feet 
high  encircles  this.  A  low  bench  is  on  the  inside 
at  the  foot  >of  the  fence  to  enable  the  fighters,  in 
case  of  urgent  necessity,  to  spring  over  it.  Back 


248  Letters-Essays 


of  the  fence,  some  five  or  six  feet,  is  a  circular 
concrete  wall,  on  which  rests  the  foot  of  the  ris 
ing  and  receding  seats,  leaving  a  space  of  five 
feet  for  helpers  to  go  about  between  the  board 
fence  and  concrete  wall  and  into  which  the  ani 
mals  would  go  should  they  jump  the  fence.  In 
side  the  fighting  arena  and  about  equi-distant  in 
the  circle  of  it  are  four  "  safety  places  "  behind 
which  the  men  can  instantly  run  in  case  of  neces 
sity,  which  is  every  now  and  then.  Only  one 
of  these  is  shown  in  the  picture.  They  are 
strongly  built  of  plank,  stand  five  feet  high,  six 
feet  long,  in  from  the  encircling  fence  about  fif 
teen  inches,  open  at  either  end,  giving  the  men 
just  room  to  run  in  freely.  There  is  no  roof  over 
the  arena,  making  it  about  as  light  as  day.  The 
seats,  rising  quite  abruptly,  are  of  concrete  and 
cold  to  sit  upon.  The  amphitheater,  including 
gallery,  will  easily  seat  three  thousand  people. 

This  visit  on  Saturday  was  thought  to  be  all 
that  any  of  us  would  see  of  the  bull  fight,  but 
somehow  as  the  time,  4  P.  M.,  Sunday,  ap 
proached,  two  of  us  strolling  away  for  a  little 
walk,  finding  ourselves  free,  hastily  stepped  on 
a  car  and  were  off  for  the  bull  fight.  Neither  of 
us  had  any  heart  for  the  ordeal,  but  somehow 
were  impelled  on,  out  of  curiosity  I  am  sure.  The 
motive  was  certainly  not  for  pleasure,  for  we 
feared  all  the  way  that  it  would  be  even  sicken 
ing  to  us.  And  yet  we  went  on.  A  band  was 
playing  just  outside.  Some  five  hundred  people 


A  Mexican  Bull  Fight  249 

came  in  and  took  seats,  nearly  one-half  being  ex 
cursionists  like  ourselves,  with  a  fair  per  cent,  of 
well  dressed  ladies.  In  a  few  cases  they  had  with 
them  bright,  tasty,  little  boys  and  girls.  This 
fact  greatly  assured  me.  I  thought  if  those  fine 
women  and  innocent  little  girls  could  stand  it  I 
ought  to  be  able  to  do  so. 

A  spirited  bull  with  long  sharp  horns  was  let 
in  through  a  doorway  in  the  fence  from  an  alley 
way  under  the  seats  leading  back  to  the  stables. 
He  was  indeed  a  sleek,  trim  and  most  nimble  and 
agile  fellow.  As  he  came  in  he  was,  of  course, 
amazed  and  more  or  less  bewildered  by  the  peo 
ple  rising  before  him  on  all  sides.  His  head  was 
high.  He  would  stand  and  look  for  a  moment, 
and  then  suddenly  turn  and  trot  to  the  other  side 
with  a  majestic  step,  as  if  saying,  "  Come  what 
may,  I  am  ready,  I  defy  you. ' '  The  thought  that 
came  to  us  was  that  the  men  who  went  in  there 
to  fight  him  would  have  to  be  on  their  guard  all 
the  while,  and  very  quick  and  nimble  on  their 
feet,  besides  possessing  much  nerve. 

I  doubt  if  the  bull  had  been  fed  for  twenty- 
four  hours  or  more,  being  so  sleek  and  so  slim. 
After  giving  him  the  freedom  of  the  ring  for  a 
few  minutes  two  of  those  poor,  famished,  half- 
dead  horses  were  led  in,  blindfolded  and  mounted 
by  two  boys  with  white  pants  and  jockey  caps. 
Why  they  were  blindfolded  was  more  than  I  can 
make  out.  Though  the  bull  should  come  at  them, 
even  on  a  walk,  the  poor  horses  were  too  near  dead 


250  Letters-Essays 


to  step  aside,  much  less  to  run.  I  really  felt 
sorry  for  the  boys  to  be  put  upon  the  backs  of 
such  rack-a-bones,  and  I  wondered  if  they  were 
not.  Since  they  do  it  every  Sunday  and  for  pay, 
I  suppose  they  have  got  used  to  it  and  do  not 
mind  it. 

Mounted,  they  prodded  and  spurred  the  poor 
horses  about  the  ring,  but  they  could  not  get  them 
into  even  a  jog,  beyond  that  of  a  few  steps  even 
from  pain  of  spurs.  The  bull  did  not  mind  them 
and  would  step  one  side  as  they  blindly  ap 
proached  him. 

Presently  six  matadors  (bull  fighters)  walked 
into  the  arena  and  marched  across  it,  two  abreast, 
empty  handed,  dressed  in  close  fitting  clothes, 
velvet  frock  or  coat  with  loose  sleeves,  knee  pants 
with  a  yellow  stripe  down  the  'side  of  the  pant  leg, 
white  socks  and  tan  shoes.  They  evidently 
thought  they  were  pretty  '  *  slick  ' '  and  the  great 
admiration  of  all.  They  were  all  young  men,  not 
above  medium  size,  well  limbed  and,  I  judged, 
all  Mexicans.  The  bull  did  not  mind  them  any 
more  than  he  did  the  horses.  It  was  at  once  ap 
parent  that  he  would  have  to  be  teased  and  forced, 
wild  as  he  looked,  into  a  fighting  mood. 

Soon  after  their  entrance  some  waiter  boys 
handed  them  some  small  blankets,  over  the  fence, 
of  a  dark  color.  Each  matador  took  one  and  they 
spread  about  the  ring,  one  going  to  the  bull  di 
rectly  in  front.  The  bull  stood  and  looked  at 
him  wondering  what  the  shaking  of  the  blanket 


A  Mexican  Bull  Fight  251 

in  his  face  meant.  Gradually  he  lowered  his  head 
near  'to  the  ground,  making  ready  to  rush  at  the 
blanket.  It  was  the  blanket  -and  not  the  man  that 
was  angering  him.  The  matador  was  watching 
him  every  moment,  and  in  a  slightly  bent  posture 
that  he  might  the  more  readily  spring  to  one  side 
the  instant  he  made  a  lunge.  When  the  bull  did 
rush  forward  he  kept  his  head  down  trying  to  horn 
the  blanket.  The  matador  would  simply  step  one 
side  or  run  in  a  circle,  dragging  and  shaking  the 
blanket  behind  him.  Another  matador  then  would 
rush  in  shaking  his  blanket  and  taking  the  bull's 
attention.  During  this  performance  the  bull  on 
coming  to  a  horse  standing,  as  they  did  after  the 
performance  began,  would  raise  his  head  and  walk 
around  him. 

The  bull  not  showing  sufficient  fighting  spirit, 
the  matadors  began  throwing  spears  into  his 
shoulders  as  he  would  rush  by  them,  to  enrage 
him.  The  first  ones  thrown  were  a  round  stick, 
ten  inches  long  with  a  metal  spear  in  the  end  and 
a  ribbon  attached,  so  the  spectators  could  see 
them. 

These  not  producing  the  desired  fighting  spirit, 
they  began  throwing  heavier  sticks  with  longer 
spears  in  them  into  his  shoulder.  In  a  short  time 
quite  a  number  were  sticking  fast  in  his  shoul 
ders.  The  bull  was  prancing  about  lively  and  so 
were  the  matadors.  The  blood  was  flowing  freely 
down  the  bull's  shoulders  and  legs.  As  a  heavy 
spear  or  dart  would  enter  his  shoulder  he  would 


252  Letters-Essays 


shake  his  head,  bellow  piteously,  paw  the  ground, 
and  chase  the  men,  or,  rather  the  blanket,  which 
they  ever  kept  tantalizingly  before  him.  He  was 
getting  mad  with  rage.  It  was  a  lively  battle. 

The  poor  horses,  after  the  battle  began,  stood 
nearly  all  the  while  facing  the  centre  awaiting  the 
bull  to  plunge  his  horns  into  them.  The  boys  on 
the  horses,  I  noticed,  did  their  best  to  face  the 
bull.  It  was  not  so  dangerous  to  them  to  have 
the  attack  come  in  front,  and,  very  likely,  that 
was  the  real  reason  for  blindfolding  them.  Be 
coming  enraged  and  wild  from  pain,  unable  to 
catch  the  men,  the  bull,  reaching  a  horse,  drove 
his  horns  into  the  horse's  breast  between  his  fore 
legs,  lifting  him  high  in  the  air.  The  matadors 
came  rushing  up  with  their  blankets  to  take  the 
bull  away  that  the  rider,  who  was  thrown  off, 
might  not  be  hurt,  and  the  horse  be  quickly  led 
outside  the  fence  before  he  should  die.  Poor  as 
they  were,  the  blood  flowed  copiously.  It  was 
horrible  and  actually  sickening.  I  remember 
seeing  the  bull  about  to  attack  the  first  horse,  but 
I  cannot  recall  anything  further  in  that  tragedy, 
nor  does  James  A.  Cox,  who  was  with  me.  I  must 
have  'hidden  my  face.  When  I  looked  again  there 
was  but  one  horse,  and  that  I  saw  killed  as  just 
stated. 

Bot>h  horses  gone,  the  fight  went  on  even  more 
vigorously  than  before,  the  matadors  evidently 
doing  their  best  to  tire  the  bull,  and  this  they 
were  certainly  doing.  There  being  six  of  them, 


A  Mexican  Bull  Fight  253 

they  had  a  great  advantage,  each  taking  his  turn 
in  teasing  and  vexing  the  bull.  Enraged  beyond 
endurance,  he  would  chase  a  man  for  some  dis 
tance  furiously,  and,  had  it  not  been  for  those 
safety  boxes,  some  of  them  would  have  got  hurt. 
Against  them  tlie  bull  often  went  with  full  might, 
striking  the  plank  with  great  force  with  his  horns, 
looking  and  wondering  where  the  man  had  gone. 
He  had  settled  down  out  of  sight.  In  such  cases 
and  in  all  cases  other  matadors  would  rush  up 
with  their  blankets.  It  is  the  number  of  matadors 
and  the  bull's  dullness  in  chasing  the  blankets 
that  enables  the  men  to  win.  If  the  bull  could 
hold  his  head  up  and  pay  no  attention  to  the 
blankets,  and  chase  the  man  he  is  after  till  he 
caught  him  or  drove  him  into  the  safety  box, 
there  would  be  a  good  many  dead  matadors,  and 
I  would  not  care  if  there  were.* 

In  fact,  I  often  thought  that  it  would  almost 
be  a  pleasure  to  have  the  bull  horn  one  of  them. 
On  one  occasion  the  matador  foolishly  ran  straight 
ahead  from  the  bull.  The  bull  caught  his  lifted 
foot  and  threw  him,  but  the  other  matadors,  ever 
on  hand  with  their  blankets  to  help  one  another, 
took  the  bull 's  attention  and  saved  him. 

*  Confirming  my  opinion,  I  notice  by  the  papers  that  on 
February  3d,  1907,  they  attempted  to  use  a  wild  buffalo,  that 
he  was  frightened  by  the  blankets  and  jumped  the'  encircling 
fence.  He  was  brought  back  into  the  arena,  but  would 
not  chase  or  fight  the  matadors  with  blankets,  though  ready 
to  fight  them  if  they  had  no  blankets.  Neither  the  jeers  nor 
cries  of  the  audience,  nor  the  pleadings  of  the  proprietors 
could  induce  the  matadors  to  fight  the  bull  without  blankets, 
sometimes  called  capes.  People  went  to  the  box  office  and 
got  their  admission  fee  paid  back  to  them. 


254  Letters-Essays 


All  this  teasing,  nagging,  running  and  fighting 
had  two  objects,  first  to  entertain  the  audience, 
and  second,  to  greatly  tire  the  bull.  When  the 
latter  had  been  sufficiently  accomplished,  a  mata 
dor  who  had  been  selected  to  do  the  great  act  of 
killing,  was  handed  a  small,  deep  red  blanket 
and  a  sword,  with  a  straight,  pointed  blade,  two 
feet  in  length.  With  these  he  stepped  up  close 
in  front  of  the  tired  bull,  holding  the  blanket  in 
both  hands,  the  hilt  of  the  sword  in  his  right 
hand,  the  blade  laying  across  the  blanket.  As 
before,  he  enraged  the  bull  into  a  lunge  at  the 
blanket,  the  matador  simply  stepping  to  the  left. 
This  was  repeated  several  times  and  I  began  to 
wonder  what  he  was  trying  to  accomplish.  I 
afterwards  learned  that  it  was  considered  a  great 
feat  to  kill  a  bull  at  the  first  stroke,  and  so  the 
matador  does  not  strike  till  his  balance  and  the 
bull's  position  as  he  rushes  by  are  favorable. 
The  sword  enters  the  body  near  the  top  of  the 
bull's  right  shoulder  and  takes  a  nearly  perpen 
dicular  course. 

The  first  thrust  at  this  time  nearly  entered  to 
the  hilt,  but  it  did  not  hit  the  heart,  though  it 
pained  the  bull  fearfully.  His  tongue  was  out 
and  he  bellowed  with  pain  piteously,  throwing 
his  head  furiously  against  his  shoulder,  turning 
about  in  his  struggles  for  relief,  till  he  worked 
the  sword  up  and  out  of  his  body,  when  it  fell 
upon  the  ground. 

Again  the  nagging  was  repeated  the  same  as 


A  Mexican  Bull  Fight  255 

before.  The  next  stroke  only  entered  a  few 
inches,  striking  a  bone  and  at  once  falling  to  the 
ground.  At  this  the  Mexicans  ejaculated  a  cry 
which  I  at  first  thought  was  commendation,  but 
soon  learned  was  derision.  The  nagging  was 
again  repeated  and  on  the  third  thrust  it  was  in 
stantly  apparent  that  the  sword  had  touched  the 
heart  and  relieved  him  of  his  misery.  His  head 
went  up,  bellowed  a  little,  twitched  all  over,  stag 
gered  and  fell  over  dead.  Some  men  promptly 
appeared  with  a  span  of  horses  and  drew  him 
out. 

There  were  four  'other  bulls  to  kill  in  the  same 
way  and  I  suppose  two  decrepit  old  horses  with 
each  bull.  Mr.  Cox  and  I  had  seen  enough  and 
more  than  enough.  It  would  have  taken  a  consid 
erable  consideration  to  have  hired  me  to  see  the 
performance  to  the  end. 

Some  of  the  finely  dressed  women  of  whom  I 
have  spoken  and  all  the  little  girls  began  sob 
bing  and  crying  when  the  bull  was  killing  the 
horses,  and  had  to  be  led  out  of  the  arena.  I 
do  not  wonder  that  they  did.  It  was  all  I  could 
do  to  witness  it.  In  fact,  I  did  not  see  it  all, 
many  times  having  to  hide  my  face  behind  the 
back  of  a  gentleman  who  sat  next  to  me.  Several 
times  I  felt  sure  I  would  have  to  leave,  but  was 
determined  to  witness  one  act  and  did. 

It  is  horrible,  awful.  I  cannot  understand  how 
or  why  any  civilized  government  permits  it.  We 
wended  our  way  back  to  the  hotel  in  a  different 


256  Letters-Essays 


mood  from  that  in  which  we  went.  When  we 
reached  the  hotel  all  divined  where  we  had  been, 
and,  to  our  great  surprise,  nearly  all  wished  to 
get  the  full  particulars.  Isn't  it  strange  that 
anyone  should  ?  And  still  I  am  writing  them. 

And  then  to  think  that  this  bull  ring  should 
be  erected  within  eighty  rods  of  an  old  mission, 
now  called  a  Cathedral,  built  in  1598.  Is  it  not 
strange,  indeed,  that  these  two  should  stand  so 
close  together?  Is  it  not  surprising  that  any 
one  should  have  the  audacity  to  bring  such  a 
brutal  arena  into  the  precincts  of  a  house  teach 
ing  the  precepts  of  Christ?  Standing  there  so 
long  as  it  has,  one  would  expect  the  very  air,  for 
at  least  a  mile  distant,  to  be  so  glorified  and 
sanctified  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  install 
a  bull  ring  within  that  radius.  The  thought  of  it 
is  enough  to  make  the  soul  verily  cry  out, 
"  What  manner  of  animal  is  man?  "  However, 
the  managers  are  considerate  enough  to  wait  till 
after  church  service  for  the  bull  fight,  but  I  fear 
the  real  reason  is  more  due  to  cupidity  than  piety. 


Some  Sketches  of  California 


N  our  visit  to  the  State  in  March  and 
April,  1905,  we  entered  it  at  Yuma,  its 
southeastern  point,  and  went  directly  to 
Riverside,  about  fifty  miles  east  from 
Los  Angeles.  The  territory  over  which  we 
passed  from  Yuma  to  near  Riverside  comes  the 
nearest  to  a  desert  of  anything  that  can  be  found 
on  this  continent.  I  am  safe  in  saying  this,  for 
nothing  can  excel  it  in  sickliness  and  barrenness. 
It  is  a  vast,  dead  level  sea,  an  ocean  bed  of  yellow 
sand,  or  rather  mud,  on  either  side  of  the  train 
as  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  and  on  which  not  a  tree, 
shrub  or  tuft  of  grass  or  anything  green  grows. 
It  is  desolation  complete.  A  recent  rain  had  laid 
the  dust,  which  otherwise,  I  am  told,  would  have 
about  suffocated  us  in  the  cars.  There  were 
great  gulches  every  now  and  then,  cut  out  by  rain 
or  overflow  in  the  past,  which  had  perpendicular 
walls,  showing  that  the  sand,  dirt  or  whatever  it 
is,  has  great  consistency. 

The  state  is  very  mountainous  indeed;  in  fact, 
they  were  always  in  evidence  from  any  point 
which  we  visited  in  the  state.  None  that  I  saw 
had  any  trees  or  timber  on  them.  As  you  look 


258  Letters-Essays 


at  them  they  appear  grey  or  yellow,  with  a  lit 
tle  low  shrub  'or  bush  scattered  here  and  there. 
There  are  two  ranges  of  mountains  extending 
north  and  south  'through  the  state.  Between 
these  mountains  are  valleys,  which  are  rich  in 
alluvial  deposit,  needing  'only  rain  or  irrigation 
to  make  them  exceedingly  productive.  These 
bottom  lands  vary,  of  course,  in  size  all  the  way 
from  a  few  acres  to  thousands  of  acres.  The  San 
Joaquin,  pronounced  San  Waukeen,  is  of  im 
mense  size  and  extends  from  near  Los  Angeles 
to  Sacramento.  But  little  is  grown  or  raised  in 
the  way  of  crops  in  the  state,  from  its  southern 
boundary  to  north  of  San  Francisco,  except  by 
irrigation,  and  this  does  not  extend  beyond  the 
villages  and  small  cities  to  exceed  a  mile  or  two. 

The  soil  products  of  the  state  are  almost  en* 
tirely  in  the  line  of  fruit,  grown  in  and  about  the 
villages  and  small  cities,  reached  by  irrigation. 
The  climate  of  the  state,  through  the  winter 
months  at  least,  is  most  magnificent.  In  the 
souitihern  half,  I  am  told,  that  during  the  sum 
mer  months  it  becomes  excessively  warm,  dry 
and  dusty  except  at  points  on  the  ocean  shore, 
where  the  ocean  breezes  make  it  delightful. 

In  some  places  irrigation  is  brought  about  by 
artesian  wells,  but  in  most  cases  water  is  pro 
cured  by  great  reservoirs  back  in  the  mountains 
and  conveyed  in  great  pipes  to  the  points  to  be 
irrigated.  These  wells  and  reservoirs  are  owned 
by  corporations  which  sell  the  water  to  residents. 


The  City  of  Riverside  259 

gardeners  and  agriculturalists,  the  latter  paying 
nine  dollars  per  acre  per  annum. 

The  main  and  most  prolific  crop  of  the  state 
is  an  ' '  animal  ' '  called  the  tourist.  They  abound 
and  are  found  everywhere,  and  during  the  winter 
season  they  must  nearly  equal  the  native  popu 
lation.  Next  to  the  tourist  in  the  way  of  crops 
are  oranges,  lemons,  walnuts,  grapes,  peaches, 
apricots,  prunes  and  flowers  in  great  abundance. 

£be  dtp  of  IRivereifce 

Is  a  new,  tasty,  clean,  little  city  of  eight  thou 
sand  people,  with  wide  and  clean  asphalt  streets, 
and  well  'built,  modern  buildings.  In  fact,  next 
to  Pasadena  we  found  it  as  delightful  a  place 
as  any  which  we  visited  in  the  state.  It  is  suf 
ficiently  distant  from  Los  Angeles  to  do  a  good 
business  in  the  way  of  mercantile  trade,  and  there 
fore  has  fine  shops  and  stores.  It  is  the  center  of 
the  orange  production  of  the  state.  From  there, 
six  thousand  cars  of  oranges  are  annually  shipped 
to  the  East,  about  one-fifth  of  the  product  of  the 
entire  state.  From  this  city  we  took  a  sixteen 
mile  drive  through  the  groves  in  and  surrounding 
the  city.  It  was  a  charming  and  delightful  trip. 
On  many  roads  the  palm,  magnolia,  eucalyptus, 
pepper  and  acacia  trees  line  the  roads.  The  orange 
trees  are  in  door  yards,  gardens  and  small  and 
large  orchards.  When  we  were  there  the  orange 
trees  were  in  full  foliage  and  more  or  less  laden 


260  Letters-Essays 


with  fruit.  Two  pickings  had  already  taken  place. 
The  trees,  I  judge,  are  not  above  fifteen  feet  in 
height,  the  top  quite  spherical  in  form,  and  so 
dense  with  very  dark  green  luxuriant  leaves  that 
it  is  impossible  to  see  through  them,  or  to  look 
into  the  tree  top.  This,  of  course,  is  only  the  case 
where  the  orchard  has  good  soil  and  plenty  of 
water.  Those  which  have  not  the  soil  or  the 
water  have  a  less  dense  foliage,  and  the  leaf  takes 
on  a  more  or  less  yellow  look.  A  tree  well  laden 
with  fruit,  having  a  dark  foliage  as  a  back 
ground,  is  certainly  a  delightful  sight.  There 
are  a  few  lemon  growers  at  Riverside,  but 
not  many.  The  lemon  is  grown  heavily  at 
San  Diego,  some  one  hundred  miles  further 
south.  The  tree  on  which  they  grow  is  about 
the  size  of  the  orange,  with  fewer  and  more 
open  limbs.  They  were  leafless  and  fruitless 
when  we  were  there,  as  was  also  the  fig  tree,  which 
resembles  the  lemon.  There  were  also  a  great 
many  walnut  groves  about  the  city.  These  trees 
resemble  the  lemon  tree  and  were  bare  of  leaf 
and  fruit.  The  olive  tree  is  about  the  size  of  a 
medium  orange  with  a  grey  or  light  colored  leaf. 
The  grape  fruit,  which  is  fast  coming  into  popular 
use,  is  grown  bountifully  on  a  tree  about  the  size 
of  a  medium  orange  tree.  These  were  in  full 
foliage  and  a  rich  sight  to  look  upon.  The  tree  top 
is  nearly  as  dense  as  the  orange,  though  not  quite 
so  dark  a  green,  and  the  grape  fruit  is  yellow. 
How  the  little  limbs  carry  such  clusters  of  grape 


The  City  of  Riverside  261 

fruit  as  they  do  is  an  enigma.  Peaches,  apricots 
and  prunes  are  also  grown  plentifully.  The  orange 
tree,  especially  when  laden  with  fruit,  excels  all 
the  others  in  its  beauty.  The  class  of  orange 
which  excels  all  others  on  the  market,  is  the  navel 
or  seedless,  and  nearly  half  of  all  that  are  grown 
are  of  this  kind.  All  other  groves  are  being  con 
verted  into  the  seedless  orange  by  cutting  the  tree 
off  about  three  feet  from  the  ground  and  grafting 
in  buds  of  the  seedless  orange. 

The  seedless  orange  was  discovered  in  this  wise. 
Some  thirty  years  ago  an  official  in  Washington 
wrote  to  an  orange  grower  in  Riverside  that  he 
had  secured  some  young  orange  trees  from  Brazil, 
which  he  wished  to  'have  grown  to  see  what  they 
might  produce.  The  grower  readily  accepted  and 
they  were  sent  to  him.  Two  of  these  trees  pro 
duced  fruit  which  proved  to  be  seedless,  and  from 
them  every  seedless  tree  in  this  country  has  been 
produced.  One  of  these  stands  where  it  was  set 
out,  on  the  edge  of  a  grove  by  the  roadside  in 
Eiverside  and  is  protected  by  a  canopy.  Its  com 
panion  tree  was  taken  up  a  few  years  since  and  set 
out  in  the  court  of  the  New  Glenwood  Hotel,  with 
mudi  ceremony  by  President  Roosevelt. 

The  uncultivated  land  about  Riverside,  reach 
able  by  the  irrigating  ditch,  brings  one  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  per  acre.  Orange  groves  pro 
ducing  fruit,  bring  from  seven  hundred  to  fifteen 
hundred  dollars  per  acre.  At  the  time  that  we 
were  there,  orange  growers  were  getting  from 


262  Letters-Essays 


seventy-five  cents  to  one  dollar  and  ten  cents  per 
box  of  about  one  hundred  oranges.  The  railroad 
gets  a  full  one-half  or  more  of  what  the  oranges 
produce  in  the  eastern  market. 


Is  another  smart  city  of  five  thousand  peo 
ple,  and  has  for  a  back  ground  a  towering  and 
mighty  mountain.  It  is  situated  only  twenty  miles 
or  so,  northeast  from  Riverside.  It  has  a  fair  sized 
valley  to  support  it,  otherwise  it  would  not  have 
come  into  existence.  The  city  is  at  the  end  of  the 
valley  and  has  mountains  on  three  sides,  as  it 
appeared  to  me.  There  is  a  very  high  hill,  or  a 
low  mountain,  I  know  not  which  to  call  it,  just  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  city,  which  has  been  adorned, 
and  beautified,  with  plants,  vines,  small  ponds, 
shrubbery,  trees  of  every  conceivable  kind  and 
class,  and  flowers  without  end  or  limit,  by  an 
eastern  millionaire  by  the  name  of  Smiley.  It 
is  called  Smiley  Heights.  The  city  gave  him  the 
mountain  in  consideration,  that  he  should  beautify 
it,  and  allow  the  public  to  drive  through.  There 
are  also  many  other  magnificent  homes  of  eastern 
millionaires,  with  great  parks,  bowers  and  hedges, 
and  flowers  without  end.  Shut  in  as  it  is,  I  hear 
that  it  is  excessively  warm  there  in  the  summer 
months. 


The  City  of  San  Diego  263 

Cits  of  San  Diego 

This  city  is  in  the  extreme  southwestern  corner 
of  the  state  and  on  the  ocean  shore.  It  has  a 
magnificent  harbor,  a  mile  or  more  inland,  and 
free  of  turbulent  water.  It  is  one  of  the  very 
oldest  towns  in  the  state,  and  it  would  seem, 
should  now  equal  San  Francisco  in  size.  Its 
climate  is  claimed  to  be  the  most  equable  of  any 
place  in  the  United  States,  having  neither  winter, 
nor  excessively  hot  summer  weather,  due  to  the 
ocean  breezes.  With  such  a  land  locked  harbor, 
I  cannot  imagine  why  the  National  government 
should  undertake  to  build  one  out  in  the  ocean, 
up  the  coast,  northerly,  only  a  hundred  and 
twenty-five  miles  distant.  It  would  look  very 
much  as  if  politics  had  taken  a  hand  in  that  job. 
The  people  claim  a  population  of  twenty-three 
thousand,  but  the  record  gives  them  only  eighteen. 
The  city  proper,  is  a  mile  or  more  inland  from  the 
ocean.  It  is  a  smart,  modern,  and  thriving  town. 
The  country  about,  is  rather  mountainous,  with 
many  fine  villages,  lacking  only  water  for  irriga 
tion.  It  seems  difficult  to  obtain  it  in  sufficient 
quantity.  Some  of  our  party  thought  it  the  finest 
place  to  live,  the  year  round,  that  we  visited. 

One  of  the  most  noted,  tourist  hotels  in  the 
state  is  over,  across  'the  harbor  on  the  ocean  shore, 
called,  "the  Coronada  Beach."  It  is  very  large 
and  fine  in  all  its  appointments,  with  fine  lawns, 
parks,  &c.  It  has,  so  far  as  I  learned,  the  finest 
surf  to  be  found  on  the  coast.  This  never  ceases. 


264  Letters-Essays 


The  ocean  may  be  quite  calm  indeed,  and  the 
stranger  at  the  moment,  would  say  it  would 
remain  so.  There  is  no  wind  to  make  it  otherwise, 
and  what  else  could  disturb  it.  But  look,  a  few 
rods  out  from  shore,  the  surface,  as  far  as  you 
can  see,  begins  to  rise,  rise,  and  the  ridge  of  water 
rising  higher  all  the  while,  unbroken  like  a  wall, 
to  move  quite  rapidly  toward  the  store,  standing 
up  in  the  air.  At  San  Diego,  I  should  say,  it 
rises  at  least,  seven,  or  possibly  eight  feet.  When 
it  reaches  a  certain  heigiht,  or  a  certain  point  up 
the  beach,  I  know  not  which  is  the  cause,  the  top 
rolls  forward,  making  a  white  crest  as  far  as  you 
can  see,  and  rushes  shoreward,  up  the  beach, 
making  a  great  roar,  and  filling  the  space  between 
where  the  crest  was  and  the  shore,  with  foam. 
Then  the  water  quietly  goes  back  to  the  sea,  where 
it  is  calm  again,  very  soon  to  rise  and  repeat  the 
operation  without  end  or  limit.  To  watch  it  rise 
and  swell  and  break,  the  day  long  is  not  tiresome, 
but  really  inspiring.  I  do  not  wonder  that  people 
love  the  old  ocean,  and  to  live  upon  its  shore. 

Gbe  City  of  pasabena 

The  City  of  Pasadena  is  often  spoken  of  as  the 
most  beautiful  and  lovely  place  in  the  State  of 
California,  and  perhaps  it  is.  It  is  situated  only 
about  ten  miles  northeast  from  Los  Angeles,  the 
metropolis  of  Southern  California.  Los  Angeles 
is  situated  twenty-eight  miles  inland  from  San 
Pedro,  where  the  government  has  spent  several 


Santa  Barbara  265 


millions,  building  dykes  out  into  the  ocean  to 
make  a  harbor.  Why  the  city  of  Los  Angeles  was 
not  built  on  the  'ocean  crest,  is  more  than  I  can 
understand.  It  has  no  water,  except  a  little 
stream  which  may,  'on  occasion,  be  called  a  river, 
but  at  most  times  is  only  a  rivulet.  The  city  of 
Pasadena  being  so  near  Los  Angeles,  and  there 
being  such  magnificent  street  car  service,  little  is 
done  in  the  -city  in  the  way  of  business  or  com 
mercial  trade.  It  is  purely  and  simply  a  gath 
ering  of  some  fifteen  thousand  people  for  quiet, 
restful  peace.  It  is  stated  that  there  are  at  least, 
one  hundred  and  fifty  millionaires  from  the  east, 
who  have  residences  for  winter  homes  in  the  city. 
The  homes  of  these  rich  men  are  largely  on  Orange 
Street  and  adjacent  to  it.  It  is  certainly  a  most 
elegant  and  delightful  locality  in  which  to  winter, 
or  rather  to  escape  winter. 

At  least  seven-tenths  of  all  the  homes  are  built 
with  only  one  story,  and  this  is  quite  a  peculiar 
feature  all  over  the  state.  Another  peculiarity  is, 
that  only  about  one  in  twenty  of  them  have  a 
cellar.  I  oftened  wondered  how  a  family  could 
live  in  them,  being  so  small  and  having  only  one 
story.  The  city  is  nestled  right  under  a  range 
of  mountains  in  its  rear. 

Santa  Barbara 

This  is  another  tourist's  place.  It  is  on  the 
ocean  and  about  a  hundred  miles  north  of  Los 
Angeles.  The  books  give  a  population  of  seven 


266  Letters-Essays 


thousand,  though  a  stranger  would  not  think  it 
had  over  half  that.  The  mountains  crowd  it  so 
close  to  the  ocean  shore,  that  the  city  is  greatly 
elongated.  While  we  were  there  the  ocean  breeze 
was  stiff,  and  even  raw,  and  the  dust  quite  plen 
tiful.  They  have  a  large,  fine,  old  Mission,  still 
in  use.  A  town,  without  one  of  these  is  in  poor 
shape  indeed.  They  have  also,  probably,  the 
finest  hotel  in  the  state,  "The  Potter,"  outside  of 
San  Francisco,  down  on  the  beach.  None  of  our 
party  was  in  any  wise  taken  with  the  place. 

Ibotel  Bel  fIDonte 

In  the  judgment  of  our  party,  one  and  all,  this 
was,  in  the  language  of  the  ladies,  the  sweetest, 
most  delightful,  lovely  and  charming  spot,  we 
found  in  the  state.  It  must  be  three  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  north  of  Los  Angeles.  It  is  on  a  bay 
of  the  ocean,  though  this  is  hidden  from  view  by 
the  park  trees.  It  is  a  mile  or  more  from  Mon 
terey,  New  Monterey,  and  Pacific  Beach,  three 
cities  or  villages,  so  contiguous  that  no  one  can 
tell  the  division  lines,  nor  would  I  think  the  resi 
dents  would  wish  to  be  known  as  living  in  any  of 
them.  The  United  States  government  has  an 
army  post  there,  and  the  saloons  are  thicker  than 
I  ever  saw  them  anywhere.  The  looks  of  the 
buildings,  and  the  condition  of  the  people,  would 
indicate  that  all  were  living  off  the  army  post. 
Monterey  was  the  first  capital  of  the  state. 

The  hotel  is  a  fine  building  and  stands  alone, 


The  Big  Trees  at  Santa  Cruz  267 

surrounded  by  a  semi-forest,  made  up  of  great, 
branching  oak,  native  pine,  red  cedar,  with  an 
importation  'of  all  kinds  of  trees  from  foreign  isles 
and  climes,  that  will  grow  there.  There  are  fine 
walks  leading  everywhere  and  the  ground  is  well 
grasised.  A  pretty  little  lake  is  close  by,  on  which 
white  and  black  swans  are  sailing.  There  is  a 
hedge  maze  close  by,  which  leads  many  a  tourist 
a  merry  dance,  and  long  walk,  as  Mr.  Cox  and  I 
can  testify.  But  for  two  ladies  we  met  in  the 
maze,  we  never  could  have  reached  the  "  sanc 
tum,  ' '  and  but  for  two  others,  we  never  could  have 
gotten  out.  In  ispite  of  our  struggles  in  the  maze, 
we  liked  the  place.  It  is  so  rich  and  spacious  in 
lawn  and  forest,  so  quiet  and  restful,  and  the  air 
so  balmy  and  rich  in  ozone,  that  we  were  all 
delighted  with  the  place.  Being  on  the  ocean, 
it  is  a  resort  the  year  round. 

Ebe  Big  Srees  at  Santa  Crus 

We  went  to  Santa  Cruz  on  the  ocean  shore  for 
the  purpose  of  visiting  the  big,  red  cedar  trees. 
Hiring  a  team  we  drove  some  three  miles  out  of 
the  city  up  a  great  gulch  to  the  top  of  the  moun 
tain  where  they  stand.  Beaching  the  forest,  we 
came  to  a  cheap  lodge,  where  were  to  be  seen 
several  very  large  trees,  say  from  six  to  ten  feet 
in  diameter.  Close  by  was  a  very  high,  board 
fence,  with  a  man  at  the  gate.  The  mammoth 
trees  were  inside,  and  'to  see  them  we  must  pay 
him  twenty-five  cents.  When  looking  at  the 


268  Letters-Essays 


others,  I  supposed  they  were  the  ones  we  had 
come  to  see,  but  thought  it  very  singular,  to  be 
allowed,  in  California,  a  land  of  fees  and  tariff, 
to  walk  right  directly  up  to  them.  I  had  not 
then  noticed  the  high  board  fence.  We  paid  the 
fee  like  a  good  tourist  and  walked  in.  Sure 
enough,  there  they  were.  They  made  those  out 
side  look  small  indeed.  The  largest  tree,  called, 
11  the  Giant"  is  sixty-three  feet  in  circumference 
four  feet  above  the  ground,  and  three  hundred 
and  seven  feet  in  height,  with  seventy-five  feet  off 
the  top,  lost  years  ago,  so  scientists  say.  There 
are  some  fifty  of  these  large  trees  in  a  space  of 
three  acres.  Many  of  these  trees  have  been  given 
distinguished  names,  such  as  Grant,  Sherman, 
Harrison,  McKinley  and  Roosevelt.  One  tree, 
very  large  at  the  ground  and  burned  out  inside 
to  a  height  of  twelve  feet,  leaving  a  shell  to  sup 
port  it,  is  living,  and  is  s'aid  to  have  sheltered 
General  Freemont  in  the  winter  of  1847.  Some 
fifty  men  can  stand  up  inside  the  tree  at  one  and 
the  same  time.  These  trees  are  estimated  by 
students  to  be  over  three  thousand  years  old. 

£be  Cliff  Ibouse  aitf>  Seals 

The  City  of  San  Francisco,  did  not,  in  any  wise, 
appeal  to  our  party.  It  is  very  hilly,  and  has,  I 
judge,  a  breeze  or  high  wind  about  all  the  time. 
That  which  most  interested  us  and  which  we 
remember  with  greatest  pleasure,  were  the  seals 
on  the  rocks  near  the  noted  Cliff  House,  just  south 


The  Cliff  House  and  Seals  269 

of  the  Golden  Gate  on  the  ocean  shore.  The  Cliff 
House  is  a  large  frame  structure,  a  summer 
resort,  I  take  it,  for  the  plain  people.  It  is  built 
on  the  rocks,  some  forty  feet  above  the  beating 
waves.  There  are  two  or  three  great  rocks,  some 
thirty  rods  distant  in  the  ocean,  rearing  their 
black  heads  above  the  water.  One  of  these  is 
rather  low,  with  a  very  uneven  surface,  but  it 
seems  to  be  the  natural  home,  or  rather  resting 
place  for  'the  seal.  When  we  were  there  it  was 
nearly  covered  with  these  great  fellows,  say 
forty  or  more,  resting,  sleeping,  and  'drying 
themselves  in  the  sun.  The  waves  were  pound 
ing  up  against  the  rock,  and  in  them  could 
be  seen  these  great  monsters,  struggling  to  get 
a  landing,  as  the  waves  lifted  them  up.  Many 
times  they  failed  and  tumbled  back  into  the  sea. 
Catching  the  landing  at  last,  they  would  waddle 
up  the  rock,  over  and  among  those  already  there, 
with  head  up,  causing  a  constant  and  never  ceas 
ing  roaring  or  barking,  the  big  fellows  making  the 
smaller  get  out  of  the  way  in  a  hurry,  but  not 
without  a  groan  or  a  roar,  just  as  some  big  men 
walk  over  the  weaker.  When  first  coming  out  of 
the  water  the  seals  are  a  rich  lbrown  in  color,  but 
after  drying  in  the  sun  they  change  to  a  straw  or 
yellow  color.  Many  of  these  seals  weigh  from 
twelve  hundred  to  eighteen  hundred  pounds.  It 
was  a  great  sight  to  watch  them  and,  somehow, 
very  fascinating,  which  we  did  all  the  time  that 
was  given  us. 


270  Letters-Essays 


(Bolfcen  (Bate 

After  the  great  quantity  of  literature  that  has 
been  poured  out  as  to  the  Golden  Gate,  I  was  most 
anxious  to  see  it,  and  curious  to  know  what  it  was, 
and  why  it  took  the  name.  I  did  not  know  but  it 
was  so  narrow  they  had  arched  it  and  gilded  the 
arch  with  golden  leaf,  or  put  in  va  gate  and  gilded 
that,  but  come  to  see  it,  I  found  it  a  plain,  simple, 
narrow  passage,  leading  from  the  ocean  to  the 
bay.  The  water  is  very  deep,  a  mile  or  more,  and 
it  certainly  is  a  magnificent  entrance  to  a  mag 
nificent  harbor.  It  is  a  mile  and  a  half  wide  at 
the  ocean,  extends  easterly  three  miles,  with  hills 
or  mountains  on  its  northern  side,  and  rising 
ground  or  hills  on  its  southerly  or  city  side,  con 
tracting,  as  it  touches  the  bay,  to  one  mile  in 
width.  The  bay  is  quite  enormous  in  size. 


Santa  Catalina  Hslanb 


HE  trip  over  to  this  island  is  a  pleasure 
which  the  greater  part  of  the  tourists  take 
during  their  sojourn  in  the  state.  The  boat 
is  taken  at  San  Pedro,  thirty  miles  dis 
tant  from  Los  Angeles,  and  it  is  twenty-eight 
miles  by  boat  to  the  island.  On  a  clear  day  the 
island  can  be  seen  from  the  shore,  as  it  rises  from 
two  hundred  to  four  hundred  feet,  with  almost 
perpendicular  walls  out  of  the  sea.  We  had  been 
often  admonished  to  select  a  quiet,  calm  day  for 
the  trip.  The  one  we  selected  was  calm,  and  the 
ocean  looked  to  be  at  rest.  The  boat  was  rather 
small  and  the  crowd  quite  great;  too  great  we 
thought  for  such  a  boat,  but  as  the  sea  looked 
smooth  and  the  distance  was  short,  we  did  not 
give  these  points  much  thought.  It  took  us  some 
time  to  get  out  beyond  the  breakwater  or  dyke 
which  the  government  is  building,  or  rather  was 
building.  It  consists  of  spiles  driven  down  into 
the  bed  of  the  sea,  on  top  of  which  a  track  was 
laid  to  haul  out  stone  to  be  dropped  into  the 
ocean.  These  spiles  are  out  for  a  mile  and  a  half, 
and  at  the  outer  end  have  been  badly  battered  and 
twisted  by  the  great  waves.  The  stones  thrown 
in,  do  not  show  above  the  water  for  more  than  a 


272  Letters-Essays 


mile  from  the  shore.  The  story  we  heard,  was 
that  the  United  States  government  had  appro 
priated  three  million  dollars  which  had  already 
gone  into  the  sea,  and  so  the  work  had  come  to  a 
stop. 

After  a  little  we  wished  the  dyke  had  been  built 
clear  over  to  the  island.  Getting  beyond  the 
breakwater,  our  boat  began  to  reel  and  rock  quite 
uncomfortably.  The  sea  was  smooth  to  look  out 
upon,  that  is,  there  were  no  whitecaps,  or  broken 
waves,  but  there  were  plenty  of  great,  heavy, 
deep  swells,  -and  we  were  running  in  the  trough 
of  them.  These  swells  were  the  tail-end  of  the 
recent  violent  storm  on  the  coast.  It  seemed  to 
us  many  times,  that  the  boat  would  surely  go 
over  on  its  side.  We  did  not  like  it,  not  any  of 
us,  but  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  take  it. 
Many  others  did  not  like  it  and  showed  their  dis 
gust  by  pale,  wan  faces  and  heavy  heaving.  Our 
party,  consisting  of  Simeon  L.  Clark,  wife  'and 
daughter,  James  A.  Cox,  wife  and  daughter,  Mrs. 
Sanford  and  the  writer,  made  a  brave  fight, 
especially  the  ladies,  and  came  out  in  quite  good 
shape. 

The  port  of  the  island  is  called  Avalon,  and  is 
quite  a  summer  resort.  It  is  said  that  ten  thousand 
people  are  often  there  at  a  time,  but  for  the  life 
of  me,  I  do  not  see  where  that  many  could  find 
standing  room.  It  is  a  little  nook  on  the  side  of 
the  towering  rocks,  and,  I  judge,  the  only  one 
on  the  shore  of  the  whole  island,  which  is  twenty- 


Santa  Catalina-  Island  273 

two  miles  in  length,  and  was  discovered  in  1542, 
with  Indians  upon  it.  There  is  one  quite  good 
hotel,  several  minor  ones,  and  quite  a  number  of 
trinket  stores  and  booths,  such  as  are  always  at 
such  resorts. 

We  were  either  captivated  with  the  place,  or 
so  pleased  to  get  our  feet  on  terra  firma,  I  know 
not  which,  that  we  at  once  decided  to  remain  over 
night  and  return  the  following  day.  The  sun  was 
shooting  its  sharp  rays  into  that  cosy  settlement, 
and  'as  there  was  considerable  life  about,  it  made 
the  place  quite  inviting.  Coming  out  on  the  beach 
after  dinner,  men  began  feeding  the  seals  in  the 
ocean  with  fish  which  the  fishermen  had  caught, 
and  which  were  fit  for  no  other  use.  It  was  great 
sport  indeed,  to  watch  them  grab  the  great,  black 
fish  on  the  very  shore,  shake  them  violently,  tear 
out  a  mouthful,  in  a  struggle  with  ten  or  twelve  of 
them,  all  in  a  mass  to  get  a  piece  of  the  fish. 
From  long-feeding  they  had  become  quite  tame. 

Nor,  should  I  in  this  connection  forget  the  sea 
gulls  and  pelicans,  which  verily  fill  the  air  while 
the  seal  feeding  is  going  on.  They,  in  their  eager 
ness  to  get  a  bit  of  the  meat,  come  down  in  great 
numbers  over  the  seal  and  among  them,  cackling 
all  the  while.  The  gull  is  quite  a  comely  bird, 
about  the  size  of  the  hen-hawk  in  northern  New 
York.  The  pelican  is  about  as  dull  and  ungainly 
as  he  could  be  made.  His  stretch  of  wing  must 
certainly  be  four  feet,  his  bill  is  ponderous,  a  full 
foot  in  length,  and  from  two  to  three  inches  in 


274  Letters-Essays 


width.  When  the  bird  is  standing  he  holds  his 
head  high,  with  the  bill  resting  against  his  breast. 
They  fly  heavily  and  lazily,  and  on  spying  a  fish, 
keel  up  and  drop  as  if  shot,  head  foremost  into 
the  sea,  when  they  very  bunglingly  right  them 
selves  on  the  water. 

The  boatmen,  big  and  little,  do  a  thriving  busi 
ness  carrying  passengers,  some  to  see  the  Marine 
gardens  through  glass  bottom  boats,  others  to 
Moonstone  beach,  and  others  up  the  coast  two 
miles  to  see  the  great,  bull  seals  on  the  rocks  in 
their  native  haunts. 

This  is  considered  one  of  the  best  fishing  points 
for  pure  sport  of  fishing,  to  be  found  anywhere  in 
the  country.  Indeed,  its  reputation  extends 
beyond  the  confines  of  this  country,  people  from 
Europe  continually  going  there  to  fish.  Boatmen 
take  them  out  in  small  boats,  from  four  to  six 
miles  in  the  ocean.  The  fish  they  come  over  to 
catch  is  called  the  tuna,  and  weighs  from  one 
hundred  to  three  hundred  pounds.  They  are  the 
greatest  fighters  known,  requiring  hours  some 
times  to  capture  them. 


Escent  of  fl&ount  2Lowe 


HE  most  exciting,  interesting  and  frighten 
ing  excursion  that  I  ever  took  was  up 
Mount  Lowe  by  cable  and  trolley.  It  was 
too  interesting  for  my  nerves. 
I  do  not  seem  built  for  high  altitudes  and 
yawning  chasms.  I  did  not  know  it  before  start 
ing  or  I  would  not  have  gone.  The  street  car  took 
us  some  six  miles  from  Pasadena,  Oal.,  to  the  foot 
of  the  mountain,  rising  all  the  while,  and  into  a 
nook  in  the  foot  hills  at  the  base  of  the  great 
incline,  where  a  oar  looking  very  much  like  an 
extra  large  automobile  with  the  rear  greatly 
raised  to  put  the  seats  on  a  level  as  it  goes  up  the 
mountain,  awaited  us.  Our  party  got  out  and 
looked  up  the  track  some  fifteen  hundred  feet,  well 
towards  perpendicular,  (ranging  from  forty-five 
to  sixty-eight  per  cent  rise)  until  our  necks  ached. 
Then  we  gasped,  rubbed  the  back  of  our  necks  to 
limber  the  cords,  and,  turning  to  one  another 
ejaculated,  "  Well,  What  do  you  think  of  it?" 
One  replied,  "  It  is  too  much  for  me."  Another 
"  I  couldn't  go  up  it,  I'm  afraid  of  my  heart  "  and 
another  "I'd  faint  dead  away.  The  rest  of  you 
go  if  you  want  to. ' '  While  we  were  thus  debating 


276  Letters-Essays 


the  car  was  readily  filled  with  thirty  persons  more 
courageous  than  we  and  off  it  slowly  went,  drawn 
by  a  cable.  We  watched  them  rise,  when  presently 
over  the  top,  up  near  the  clouds,  was  seen  a  car 
coming  down.  ' '  Will  we  be  bold  enough  to  take 
that  one?"  inquired  some.  "  I  don't  know  " 
retorted  others.  Thus  we  joked  and  laughed,  but 
when  it  reached  the  foot  there  were  enough  to  fill 
it,  and  to  be  gentlemanly  we  let  them  do  it.  Up 
it  went,  we  watching  the  while.  Presently  again 
over  the  top  came  the  first  car  back  for  the 
cowards,  for  there  were  enough  of  these  to  fill  a 
car.  So  do  not  think  we  were  the  only  timid  ones. 
When  it  got  down  we  did  not  have  to  be  gentle 
manly.  There  was  room  for  all.  Mr.  James  A. 
Cox  led  off,  asking  "  Who  is  going?"  Mrs. 
Simeon  L.  Clark,  Miss  Blanche  Berry  and  I 
replied  "  We  are,"  took  our  seats  and  up,  up  we 
went.  I  did  not  look  back,  nor  into  the  chasm  on 
the  right,  nor  to  the  beautiful  plain  and  city  of 
Pasadena  on  the  left.  They  were  all  crying, 
"  Look  at  this  and  look  at  that,  how  beautiful, 
how  charming,"  but  I  was  attending  to  my 
knitting,  fearing  I  might  drop  a  stitch.  In  seven 
or  eight  minutes  we  were  on  the  top  called  Echo 
Mountain,  where  we  got  out.  From  there  I  viewed 
it  all  complacently  and  it  was  grand  indeed.  This 
point  is  some  3100  feet  above  the  sea  and  I  had 
supposed  was  all  there  was  to  the  excursion,  and 
after  a  little  I  wished  it  had  been.  We  busied 
ourselves  for  a  time  when  a  light  built,  open 


Ascent  of  Mount  Lowe  277 

electric  car  came  in  from  around  the  side  of  the 
mountain  and  we  all  got  in,  little  thinking  where 
we  were  to  go  or  what  we  were  to  experience. 
Half  a  mile  away,  across  a  great  gulf,  midway  up 
a  mountain  I  could  see  a  yellow  streak  and  sure 
enough,  as  I  soon  learned,  this  was  our  road. 
Unfortunately  for  me  I  got  an  end  seat,  and  on  the 
chasm  or  gulch  side.  We  started  right  out  the 
mountain  side,  with  a  road  bed  just  wide  enough 
for  the  car  wheels,  at  fair  speed,  with  -a  chasm 
ranging  from  perpendicular  to  forty-five  per  cent 
slope  and  from  100  to  one  thousand  feet  deep, 
which  continued  to  the  journey's  end  four  miles 
away.  I  got  frightened  at  once,  and  it  didn't  let 
up.  To  get  away  from  the  gulf  I  pressed  the  other 
three  on  the  seat  hard  the  other  way  and  hung 
on  to  the  seat  in  front.  Away  up  there  in  the  air 
we  were  eternally  and  all  the  while  turning 
shorter  corners  than  I  supposed  possible,  far 
shorter  than  any  street  corner,  now  into  a  ravine 
in  the  mountain  side  and  then  out  around  a  sharp 
projection,  the  wheels  screeching  from  friction  all 
the  while  with  new  vistas  and  new  gulches  at 
every  turn.  I  suppose  it  was  grand  but  I  didn't 
see  much  of  it.  The  whole  car  was  ejaculating, 
"  Oh,  look  down  there,"  "  Did  you  see  that 
peak?"  "  Look  over  there,"  "  What  blending  of 
colors."  "  See  the  clouds."  "  They  are  no 
higher  than  we.  How  fleecy  and  thin  they  look. ' ' 
11  Did  you  notice  that  awful  chasm,"  &c.  &c. 
The  apparent  unconcern  of  the  others  helped  me 


278  Letters-Essays 


some  and  toward  the  end  I  had  considerably 
improved,  got  so  I  could  look  down  a,  sloping 
gulch.  About  two  miles  out  our  car  left  the  moun 
tain  side  to  which  it  had  clung,  and  turned  sharply 
out  into  space  on  trestle  work  over  an  awful 
chasm  and  went  back  for  some  distance  below  the 
track  on  which  we  came  up.  This  trestle,  we  were 
told,  is  forty-one  hundred  feet  above  the  sea, 
showing  a  rise  from  the  start  of  one  thousand 
feet.  At  the  end  of  another  two  miles  we  found 
ourselves  at  a  cove  in  the  mountain  side,  where 
is  what  is  called  Alpine  Tavern,  five  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea.  From  there  you  can  take  burros 
and  go  another  one  thousand  feet  to  the  top  but 
we  had  had  enough.  After  taking  dinner,  which 
all  of  us  were  able  to  do,  but  not  some  others  on 
the  «ar,  we  sat  about  for  an  hour  awaiting  our  car 
to  return.  There  was  a  big,  burly  Tammany 
Hall  politician,  who  was  more  frightened  than  I, 
and  I  took  quite  a  liking  to  him.  We  left  him  up 
there.  How  he  made  it  coming  down  I  do  not 
know.  He  was  dreading  it. 

On  the  return  there  was  quite  a  scramble  to  get 
inner  seats.  The  car  seats  thirty-five.  Nine  more 
were  crowded  in,  which  annoyed  us,  and  in 
addition  to  this  a  trailing  car  holding  thirty  was 
attached.  It  looked  to  us  like  altogether  too 
much  of  a  load,  but  we  had  nothing  to  say,  and  off 
we  went,  down,  down  hill  all  the  way.  Our  pace 
was  quite  brisk,  more  so  than  I  would  suppose 
they  would  dare  go.  Happily,  on  this  trip  I  found 


Ascent  of  Mount  Lowe  279 

I  could  now  and  then  take  in  some  of  the  beauties 
that  were  so  persistently  dinned  into  my  ears  on 
the  way  up.  Eeaching  the  great  incline  I  stepped 
into  the  car  and  went  down  with  as  much  com 
posure  as  a  'boy  slides  down  hill,  being  such  a 
relief,  I  suppose,  to  get  off  the  side  of  that  moun 
tain,  or  rather  those  mountains. 

After  all,  I  feel  just  as  another  man  I  met  who 
took  it  felt.  He  told  me  that  he  would  not  have 
missed  taking  it  for  a  thousand  dollars,  that  had 
he  known  what  it  was  he  would  not  have  taken  it 
for  'a  thousand.  But  it  must  be  said  that  many 
people  do  not  seem  to  mind  it  much.  If  you 
have  a  chance,  try  it.  It  is  a  hundred  fold  more 
exciting  than  the  ascent  of  Pikes  Peak. 


H  IDisit  to  the  %icfc  Observatory 


OME  years  ago  James  Lick  of  San  Fran 
cisco,  built  one  of  the  great  observatories 
of  the  world,  on  the  top  of  Mt.  Hamilton 
some  twenty-eight  miles  back  from  the 
city  of  San  Jose,  California.    The  observatory  has 
an  elevation  of  forty-two  hundred  feet  above  the 
sea. 

It  was  principally  to  see  this,  as,  I  judge,  it  is 
with  most  tourists,  that  we  went  to  San  Jose.  The 
stage  for  Mount  Hamilton  with  four  horses,  left 
at  seven  in  the  morning,  April  5,  1905.  I,  alone 
of  our  party,  got  aboard  with  nine  others,  six  of 
whom  were  from  Illinois,  and  off  we  went.  It  was 
very  foggy  and  we  feared  it  would  be  an  unpleas 
ant  day,  but  when  we  got  well  started  on  the 
mountain  side,  the  fog  lifted,  passed  away  and 
the  day  became  most  charming.  We  slowly  rose 
all  the  while,  winding  in  and  out  the  mountain 
side,  with  clean  and  well  cultivated  valleys  and 
hillsides  below  us,  for  .some  twelve  or  fifteen  miles. 
It  was  a  charming  and  delightful  sight  to  look 
off  and  down  upon  the  orchards  and  well  culti 
vated  fields.  I  do  not  know  just  why  it  should 
have  been  so  pleasing  but  it  was.  Perhaps  our 
height  intensified  the  beauty  of  the  view. 
We  changed  our  four  horses  twice  on  the  way 


THE   LICK   OBSERVATORY 


A  Visit  to  the  Lick  Observatory          281 

up,  and  again  on  the  return.  It  was  a  good  road 
all  the  way  arid  oiled  to  lay  the  dust.  When  we 
had  seven  miles  further  to  go  we  could  plainly 
see  the  white  buildings,  and  great,  white  dome, 
up  above  us  against  the  sky,  and  they  did  not 
look  to  be  a  mile  distant,  but  we  found  they  were. 
In  going  those  seven  miles  we  made  two  hundred 
and  twenty-one  turns  going  in  and  out,  back 
ward  and  forward,  to  get  up  to  the  top,  with 
deep  sides  and  gulches  'below  us.  As  we  neared 
the  top,  turning  a  point,  the  driver  called  out, 
"  Here  is  the  '  Oh  My  Chasm,'  "  and  sure 
enough,  as  we  looked  off  and  down,  every  one  but 
a  man  and  his  wife  from  Butte,  Montana,  which 
is  all  mountains,  did  cry  out, ' '  Oh  My. ' '  He  told 
us  it  was  eighteen  hundred  feet  to  the  bottom  of 
the  chasm,  very  nearly  perpendicular,  and  I  judge 
it  was.  There  were  many  other  places  very  deep, 
but  none  equaling  this. 

The  office  and  living  building  are  of  good  size 
and,  of  course,  built  of  stone.  The  observatory 
is  up  against  it  for  mutual  support,  I  judge.  The 
wind  up  there  reaches  a  velocity  at  times  of 
ninety  miles  an  hour.  The  view  from  there  was 
fine,  even  awe  inspiring.  The  country  all  about 
appeared  to  be  mountainous. 

I  'cannot  give  a  description  of  the  telescope  or 
of  the  dome  inclosing  it  with  any  great  accuracy, 
since  the  circular  handed  us  is  not  now  at  hand, 
which  I  regret.  I  do  remember  that  the  observa 
tory  complete  cost  a  little  over  six  hundred 


282  Letters-Essays 


thousand  dollars.  The  dome  is  some  fifty  feet 
in  diameter  and  fifty  feet  high.  The  telescope 
is  about  forty-five  feet  in  length  and  about  four 
feet  in  diameter  and  built  of  metal.  It  has  a 
lens  thirty-six  inches  in  diameter.  There  is  a  slit 
in  the  dome  from  bottom  to  top,  some  six  feet 
wide,  through  which  the  telescope  points  when 
in  use.  It  is  hung  in  the  centre  by  a  very  strong 
support  and  can  be  easily  moved  or  turned,  'and 
all  by  machinery.  The  machinery  is  so  delicate 
and  accurate  that  the  telescope  can  be  put  on  a 
star  at  the  horizon,  an'd  it  will  keep  on  it  through 
the  night,  the  machinery  just  keeping  time  with 
the  revolution  of  the  earth.  What  may  we  think 
of  that  for  such  a  mighty  and  ponderous  instru 
ment?  By  machinery  also,  the  telescope  and 
massive  pedestal,  or  'base  on  which  it  rests,  can 
be  moved  up  and  down  a  distance  of  about  fifteen 
feet.  Down  underneath  the  telescope  Mr.  Lick 
is  buried.  Peace  to  his  ashes.  Above  him,  due 
to  his  bounty,  they  are  every  now  and  then  find 
ing  new  worlds.  Along  side  the  big  telescope 
there  are  attached  two  small  ones,  with  which 
they  first  find  the  object  they  wish  to  study. 

The  finest  spectacle  of  all  came  to  us  when 
twenty  miles  away  on  our  return,  as  it  was 
growing  dusk.  Looking  back,  we  could  not  see 
the  mountains  at  all  for  the  dust  and  smoke  of 
the  !day  had  risen,  but  we  could  plainly  see  the 
great  white  buildings  and  dome  up  against  the 
sky,  verily  like  a  white  residence  in  the  heavens. 


A  Visit  to  the  Lick  Observatory          283 

Stanford  3r.,  1Hniver$it$ 

On  the  following  day  we  took  the  train  for  Palo 
Alto,  eight  miles  north,  to  visit  the  famous  Le- 
land  Stanford,  Jr.,  University.  A  howling  pack 
of  hackmen  met  us,  seeming  to  know  <we  were 
coming,  or,  at  least,  that  the  train  was.  We 
joined  with  others  and  engaged  one  of  them  to 
drive  us  through  the  grounds  and  explain  mat 
ters.  The  grounds  reach  nearly  to  the  depot,  and 
comprise  the  Stanford  Palo  Alto  estate  of  eight 
thousand  four  hundred  acres.  The  university 
now  has  seventy-seven  thousand  acres  in  other 
parts  of  the  state,  with  securities,  making  an  en 
dowment  of  upwards  of  forty  million  dollars,  all 
given  by  Stanford  and  his  wife,  who  very  lately 
died.  The  buildings  are  all  built  of  a  yellow  stone, 
quarried  near  by.  I  do  not  think  they  could  long 
withstand  a  northern  New  York  climate.  The 
architecture  is  of  the  Old  Mission  type,  and  quite 
attractive  indeed.  There  are  many  buildings 
completed,  some  of  which  are  only  one-story  high 
and  others  under  construction.  There  is  a  mas 
sive  memorial  arch  over  a  hundred  feet  high.  It 
is  an  imposing  entrance.  I  could  not  keep  out 
of  mind  the  arches  that  the  Roman  Conquerors 
built  to  signalize  their  victories.  Those  have 
gone;  will  not  this,  built  for  a  better  purpose, 
endure  longer  ?  The  memorial  church,  built  of  the 
same  stone  by  Mrs.  Stanford,  cost  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  and  is  one  of  the  finest  in 


284  Letters-Essays 


America.  Over  the  chancel  nearly  a  hundred  feet 
up  is  the  painting  of  an  eye,  representing  the  All 
Seeing  Eye.  The  church  contains  one  of  the  great 
organs  of  the  country,  with  over  'three  thousand 
pipes  and  cost  sixteen  thousand  dollars.  The 
spire  is  over  two  hundred  feet  high.  The  win 
dows  (are  all  allegorical  and  costly.  Artisiians 
from  the  Old  World  'are  still  'at  work  upon  the 
interior.  It  is  the  richest  and  finest  church  I 
was  ever  in.  I  was  glad  to  learn  that  all  the 
preaching  was  non-sectarian. 

The  museums  are  very  extensive,  and  contain 
about  everything  any  one  would  wish  to  see,  from 
Egyptian  mummies  with  robes  and  casket,  to  the 
smallest  sea  shells,  also  the  jewelry  and  dresses  of 
Mrs.  Stanford,  one  of  them  costing  as  high  as 
thirty-five  thousand  dollars,  with  about  every 
thing  her  husband  and  son  ever  had,  I  should 
think.  One  could  spend  several  days  with  pleas 
ure  in  the  great  room  devoted  to  oil  paintings. 
Some  of  them  are  particularly  fine,  superb.  This 
room  took  my  fancy  more  than  any  other.  I  am 
not  an  artist,  but  I  know  they  are  fine,  since  they 
are  so  lifelike  and  natural  that  you  expect  them 
to  speak  as  you  approach  them.  Statues  and 
paintings  of  Mr.  Stanford,  Mrs.  Stanford  and  the 
son  confront  one  everywhere. 

But  the  finest,  most  artistic  of  all,  is  a  full 
sized  figure  in  the  whitest  marble  of  a  woman  on 
her  knees  with  great  marble  wings,  with  her  face 
resting  on  her  arms  lying  on  a  block  of  marble. 


A  Visit  to  the  Lick  Observatory          285 

Wings,  woman  and  pedestal  were  cut  from  a 
single  stone,  and  cost  sixty  thousand  dollars,  as 
I  remember.  It  is  intended  to  represent  Mrs. 
Stanford  weeping  over  the  loss  of  her  son.  It 
stands  out  in  the  grounds  and  is  by  far  the  great 
est  piece  of  'statuary  I  ever  looked  upon.  It  is 
the  personification  in  marble  of  the  deepest  and 
most  uncontrollable  sorrow.  Viewing  it,  we  were, 
and  most  people  are,  unconsciously  stilled  to  a 
quiet,  sober  and  even  reverential  mood.  Four  dis 
tinguished  looking  men  stood  viewing  it  as  we 
approached,  and  it  so  appealed  to  them  that  they 
had,  unbidden,  taken  off  their  hats.  Think  of  a 
piece  of  stone  doing  that.  Close  by  is  a  great 
mausoleum  of  white  marble  costing  over  one  hun 
dred  thousand  dollars,  in  which  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Stanford  and  their  son  are  'buried. 


NOTE. — An  earthquake,  followed  by  fire,  nearly  de 
stroyed  the  city  of  San  Francisco  in  April,  1906.  It  also 
practically  destroyed  the  Memorial  Church  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  and  many  of  the  college  buildings.  I  trust,  sin 
cerely,  that  it  did  not  harm  the  statue  of  the  sorrowing 
woman. 


(Seorge  S.  Wright 


ONDAY   evening,    September   llth,    1905, 
word  came  over  the  telephone  that  Mr. 
Wright  had  passed  away.     Though  not 
unexpected  it  was  a  shock  to  his  many 
friends  and  acquaintances  in  this  village,  where 
he  was  known  quite  as  well  as  our  permanent  res 
idents. 

Seventy  years  and  more  ago  he  began  coming 
here  as  a  boy  from  his  home,  twelve  miles  east, 
which  he  has  kept  up  through  all  the  interven 
ing  years,  living  here  entirely  during  the  winter 
months  for  the  last  half-dozen  years  or  more. 
Therefore  he  well  knew  and  took  a  respectful 
position  with  all  the  leading  and  prominent  men 
here  and  in  Eastern  St.  Lawrence  for  the  past 
fifty  years  or  more.  Very  nearly  all  of  these 
men  have  preceded  him  in  their  entrances  upon 
that  "  shoreless  sea  "  called  eternity.  He  was 
quite  alone  for  some  years  past  as  to  the  men  of 
his  prime,  but  this  did  not  chill  or  mar  in  any 
way  his  interest  in  life,  so  practical  and  virile  was 
his  nature.  As  the  older  ones  fell  by  the  way 
side  he  took  the  hand  of  the  son  and  came  on 
through  the  years  full  of  cheer,  well  knowing 


GEORGE    S.   WRIGHT 


George  8.  Wright  287 

that  it  is  but  natural  for  the  old  to  die.  In  this 
way  and  due  to  this  characteristic  he  entered  into 
full  fellowship  with  the  succeeding  generation, 
now  becoming  hoary  with  age,  fully  as  closely 
and  intimately  as  he  had  with  the  men  of  his  age 
and  prime.  How  fortunate  such  a  faculty  to  one 
whose  journey  is  so  long. 

Mr.  Wright  was  a  son  of  Caleb  Wright,  a  pio 
neer  of  the  town  of  Hopkinton,  who  came  to  that 
town  from  Weybridge,  Vt.,  at  least  as  early  as 
1804.  The  first  settlement  of  the  town  was  in 
March,  1803.  It  was  practically  a  dense  forest 
when  Mr.  Wright  came.  He  worked  more  or  less 
at  least  for  Eos>well  Hopkins,  the  founder  of  the 
town,  for  a  few  years.  He  first  selected  a  hun 
dred  acres  where  Jonah  Sanford,  Jr.,  so  long  re 
sided,  then  an  unbroken  forest,  but  being  per 
suaded  by  the  few  settlers  over  on  the  "  Pots 
dam  road  "  that  there  never  would  be  a  road  by 
his  tract,  gave  it  up  and  took  instead  a  hundred 
acres  on  the  north  side  of  the  road  opposite  the 
George  S.  Wright  brick  residence.  There  he  built 
a  log  house,  which  stood  where  the  farm  tenant 
house  now  stands,  and  in  which  his  first  child, 
Catherine,  wife  of  John  W.  Priest  of  'Springfield, 
was  born  May  14,  1815.  In  the  next  year  or  two 
he  'built  a  frame  house  where  the  brick  residence 
now  stands,  where  he  lived  till  his  death,  Novem 
ber  14th,  1839.  He  must  have  been  a  man  of 
business  ability,  since  in  those  few  years,  begin 
ning  in  a  forest,  he  had  purchased  and  owned 


288  Letters-Essays 


the  next  hundred  acres  west  of  his  own,  the  hun 
dred  acres  southerly  across  the  road,  and  land 
in  'Stockholm  and  Canton,  being  easily  the 
wealthiest  man  in  all  that  section.  Upon  his 
death  the  care  and  burden  of  the  estate  fell  upon 
his  widow,  who  proved  herself  in  every  way  com 
petent. 

Mr.  George  S.  Wright  never  tired  in  his  praise 
of  his  mother  as  a  great  manager  and  good  busi 
ness  woman. 

There  were  five  children,  viz.:  Catherine,  Ada- 
line,  who  married  Joseph  A.  Brush;  Caleb,  who 
died  at  Libertyville,  111.,  in  1900;  Louisa  and 
George  S.,  who  survived  them  all. 

George  S.  Wright  was  born  May  28th,  1824.  He 
remained  at  home  'and  ultimately  acquired  the 
entire  farm.  The  log  house  having  gone  to  wreck, 
in  1857,  he  moved  the  frame  house  across  the  road 
to  the  site  of  the  old  log  house  and  in  the  same 
year  built  the  fine  brick  residence  in  which  he 
has  ever  since  resided. 

Mr.  Wright,  on  reaching  his  majority,  took  an 
active  interest  in  all  public  and  town  affairs, 
which  he  continued  to  do  till  within  the  last  few 
years.  He  was  a  bright,  well  informed  man  and 
possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  the  courage  of 
his  convictions.  He  never  feared  to  assert  his 
opinions  and  convictions  upon  any  topic  or  mat 
ter.  In  a  business  way  he  ha'd  but  few  if  any 
superiors,  situated  as  he  was  in  a  quiet,  rural  re 
treat.  He  had  great  good  sense,  rare  judgment 


George  8.  Wright  289 

of  men  and  values,  and  most  excellent  qualities 
as  a  financier  and  business  man. 

He  was  one  of  the  promoters  and  organizers 
of  the  Peoples  Bank  of  this  village,  attending  the 
first  meeting  of  stockholders  February  5th,  1889,- 
when  he  was  elected  a  director,  which  position 
he  held  till  May,  1892,  when  he  declined  a  re 
election. 

In  all  business  matters  or  ventures  he  was  al 
ways  exceedingly  careful,  conservative  and  cau 
tious,  looking  it  over  with  keen  vision  from  every 
side,  thus  saving  him  from  any  reverses  or  losses 
of  any  moment  in  a  business  way.  With  such 
views  and  ideas  of  life,  and  they  were  with  him 
till  the  last,  it  could  hardly  be  otherwise  than 
that  he  should  be  a  great  success  in  life,  which 
he  was,  acquiring  as  is  universally  understood,  a 
large  competence. 

In  1862  and  '63,  when  the  civil  war  was  in  its 
height,  he  held  the  important  position  of  su 
pervisor  of  his  town.  As  such  and  as  a  plain  citi 
zen  he  put  his  time,  means  and  his  spirit  into  the 
cause  for  the  Union.  His  loyalty  to  the  Union 
and  positive  nature  brought  him  into  some  wordy 
contests  with  the  few  Copperheads  whom  he  met, 
whose  principles  he  despised. 

Mr.  Wright  was  hardly  up  to  medium  size  in 
height,  spare  and  slight  of  build.  For  years  his 
hair  and  beard  have  been  white  and  the  latter 
worn  full.  The  picture  which  we  are  able  to  give 
is  taken  from  the  cut  in  * '  Early  History  of  Hop- 


290  Letters-Essays 


kinton,"  and  is  a  fine  illustration  of  how  he  has 
looked  for  some  years  past. 

For  years  he  has  been  quite  a  sufferer  from 
asthma  and  in  the  last  ten  years  or  so  has  had 
several  sick  spells.  Though  not  robust  or  vigor- 
ours  he  yet  possessed  almost  amazing  virility  and 
recuperating  powers,  recovering  from  every  ill 
ness  except  the  last. 

In  1856  he  married  Harriet  M.,  the  daughter 
of  Lee  Eastman,  who  died  January  15th,  1894. 
By  this  marriage  there  were  two  children,  Eosa 
L.  and  Mattie,  who  died  in  1876.  His  daughter, 
Rosa  L.,  has  lived  with  him  all  her  life  and  for 
some  years  has  been  his  constant  associate  and 
companion  in  sickness  and  in  ihealth.  Her  care, 
watchfulness  and  devotion  to  him  have  been  un 
stinted.  With  such  sweet  and  tender  mercies  as 
she  has  ministered  unto  him  in  all  his  illnesses, 
his  spirit  could  hardly  have  taken  its  flight  with 
out  a  benediction  upon  her. 


^Lincoln's  Gettysburg  Hbbress 


Mas  Ht  Written  on  tbe  {Train  to  tbc 

IBattlefielfc?    Spofcen  at  <B.  &  R 

Encampment  at  ]pot0t>am, 

Hugust,  1905 


.  COMMANDER,  Ladies  and  Gentlemen: 
Let  me  preface  the  reading  of  the  ad- 
dress  with  a  brief  history  of  where  and 
when  it  was  written,  so  far  as  I  have 
been  able  to  gather  from  his  historians  and 
others.  Not  long  after  its  delivery  at  Get 
tysburg,  in  November,  1863,  the  story  went 
over  the  country,  through  the  press,  that  while 
the  President  was  on  his  way  from  Washington 
to  Gettysburg,  a  noted  gentleman  with  whom  he 
was  conversing  in  the  car  (some  reports  have  it 
that  it  was  Edward  Everett  himself)  made  the 
inquiry  of  the  President:  "  I  suppose  you  will 
speak  today?  "  To  which  the  President  replied: 
"  No,  no.  Edward  Everett,  the  most  polished 
orator  in  all  this  country,  is  to  speak,  and  no  one 
will  care  to  hear  me  after  listening  to  him." 
"  But,"  rejoined  his  friend,  "  you  forget,  you 
are  the  President  of  the  United  States.  We  are 


292  Letters-Essays 

to  dedicate  a  great  national  cemetery  of  the  Union 
dead  who  fell  on  that  field,  and,  surely,  the  Presi 
dent  should  at  least  make  a  short  address.  The 
people  there  gathered  will  be  greatly  disappointed 
if  you  do  not.  They  will  wonder,  too,  why  the 
President  could  not  and  did  not  on  such  a  solemn 
occasion  find  it  in  his  heart  to  say  at  least  a  kindly 
word." 

To  this  appeal,  as  the  story  has  it,  a  sad  look 
came  over  the  President 's  face  as  was  his  wont  in 
deep  meditation,  when,  calling  for  a  pad,  he 
wrote  on  his  knee  the  address  which,  by  critic 
and  scholar,  rhetorician  and  orator,  publicist  and 
statesman,  is  everywhere  and  by  all  considered 
as  the  purest  in  deep  feeling,  grandest  in  thought 
and  noblest  in  expression,  of  any  address  of  the 
kind  ever  penned  by  mortal  man. 

This  surely  is  a  pretty  story  of  how  it  was 
written,  and  it  appeals  to  us  all  who  love  Lincoln 
and  his  memory,  and  it  exalts  him.  But  certainly 
his  fame  nor  his  memory  require  it,  especially 
if  it  be  not  true.  No  other  man  living  then  or 
since  could  have  written  it,  though  given  months 
in  which  to  do  it,  because  no  man  then  or  since 
had  or  has  such  a  combination  of  heart  and  brain 
as  Mr.  Lincoln  possessed. 

Now,  I  do  not  say,  with  the  information  that 
is  obtainable,  that  he  did  not  write  it  on  his  knee 
in  the  car  on  his  way  to  Gettysburg,  but  I  must 
say,  after  considerable  research,  that  I  can  not 
give  the  story  any  credence.  Though  the  im 
mortal  Lincoln  (if  any  man  can  be  truly  said  to 


Lincoln's  Gettysburg  Address  293 

be  immortal)  was  its  author,  is  it  not,  I  submit, 
taxing  credulity  to  the  straining  point,  to  think 
or  believe  that  even  he  could  pen  such  an  ad 
dress,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  in  a  noisy  car, 
surrounded  by  so  many  distinguished  men,  being 
as  he  was  the  center  of  attraction  and  the  cyno 
sure  of  all  eyes  and  attention?  Several  promi 
nent  men  who  not  only  accompanied  him,  but  at 
tended  on  him  during  the  trip,  have  told  us  of 
many  incidents  of  the  journey,  but  not  one  of 
them,  so  far  as  my  reading  goes,  mentions  the 
writing  of  this  address  in  the  car.  While  one 
of  them,  whose  duty  it  was  to  look  after  the  Presi 
dent,  states  that  he  observed  him  often  and  that 
he  could  not  have  written  it  in  the  car.  There  is 
some  authority,  I  admit,  that  he  did  so  write  it, 
but  it  is  mostly  hearsay,  and  I  think  overborne  by 
the  testimony  of  those  who  accompanied  'him  and 
other  facts  which  we  know. 

Benjamin  Parley  Poore,  who  was  an  able  news 
paper  correspondent  and  a  close  friend  of  the 
President,  states  in  his  essay  on  Lincoln  as  fol 
lows: 

"  Lincoln's  remarks  at  Gettysburg,  which  have 
been  compared  to  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  were 
written  in  the  car  on  his  way  from  Washington 
to  the  battlefield  upon  a  piece  of  pasteboard  held 
on  his  knee,  with  persons  talking  all  around  him; 
yet,  when  a  few  hours  afterward  he  read  them, 
Edward  Everett  took  him  by  the  hand  and  said: 
*  I  would  rather  be  the  author  of  those  twenty 
lines  than  to  have  all  the  fame  my  oration  of  to 
day  will  give  me. ' 


294  Letters-Essays 


He  does  not  state,  nor  do  I  learn,  that  he  was 
with  the  President  ion  that  memorable  journey. 

The  Hon.  Hugh  McCulloch,  who  was  comp 
troller  of  the  currency  and  'also  secretary  of  the 
treasury  under  Lincoln,  in  his  masterly  tribute, 
after  making  the  inquiry: 

* '  Where  in  the  English  language  can  be  found 
eloquence  of  higher  tone  or  more  magnetic  power 
than  in  his  (Lincoln's)  speech  at  Gettysburg," 
adds,  "  It  is  said  that  Mr.  Everett,  taking  Mr. 
Lincoln's  hand,  remarked:  '  My  speech  will  soon 
be  forgotten.  Yours  never  will  be.  How  gladly 
would  I  exchange  my  hundred  pages  for  your 
twenty  lines.'  " 

It  is  evident  he  was  not  present,  since  had  he 
been  he  would  have  had  a  seat  on  the  platform, 
and  thus  hearing  what  was  said,  would  not  have 
used  the  qualifying  words,  * '  It  is  said. ' ' 

L.  E.  Chittenden  in  his  "  Personal  Reminis 
cences,"  published  in  1893,  says: 

"  It  has  been  said  that  he  (Lincoln)  wrote  the 
Gettysburg  'address  with  a  lead  pencil  on  the  cars 
riding  to  the  battlefield.  Possibly,  and  yet  it 
would  not  follow  that  he  had  not  expended  as 
much  time  and  thought  over  its  few  lines  as  Mr. 
Everett  had  upon  his  ornate  oration. ' ' 

He  was  Lincoln's  registrar  of  the  treasury, 
and  one  of  his  most  ardent  admirers.  It  will  be 
noticed  he  used  the  qualifying  terms,  "  It  has 
been  said, ' '  and  ' '  possibly, ' '  showing  that  he  had 
some  doubt  on  the  subject. 

Isaac  N.  Arnold,  a  member  of  Congress  from 
.Chicago,  and  a  great  friend  of  the  President,  in 


Lincoln's  Gettysburg  Address  295 

his  * '  Life  of  Lincoln, ' '  publishe'd  in  1885,  says : 

"  President  Lincoln  while  in  the  cars  on  'his 
way  to  the  battlefield  was  notified  that  he  would 
be  expected  to  make  some  remarks.  Asking  for 
some  paper,  a  rough  sheet  of  foolscap  was  handed 
to  him,  and,  retiring  to  a  seat  by  himself,  with 
a  pencil  wrote  the  a'ddress  which  has  become  so 
celebrated,  an  address  which  for  'appropriateness 
and  eloquence,  for  pathos  and  beauty,  for  sublim- 
ity  in  sentiment  and  expression,  has  -hardly  its 
equal  in  English  literature." 

After  speaking  of  the  President's  delivery  of 
the  address  he  further  says : 

11  As  he  (Lincoln)  closed  and  the  tears  and 
sobs  and  cheers  which  expressed  the  emotions  of 
the  people  subsided,  he  turned  to  Everett  and 
grasping  his  hand  said:  '  I  congratulate  you  on 
your  success.'  The  orator  gracefully  replied: 
'  Ah,  Mr.  President,  how  gladly  would  I  exchange 
all  my  hundred  pages  to  have  been  the  author  of 
your  twenty  lines.'  " 

In  a  foot  note  he  states  that  he  is  indebted  to 
Governor  Denison,  who  was  present,  for  some  of 
the  incidents  stated  in  the  text,  but  he  does  not 
state  what  they  are. 

In  the  history  of  Lincoln  by  John  T.  Morse, 
published  in  1899,  he  quotes  what  Arnold  says 
as  to  Lincoln's  having  written  it  on  his  knee  in 
the  cars,  and  then  adds  : 

"  But  that  the  composition  was  quite  so  ex 
temporaneous  as  that  seems  doubtful,  since  we 
know  that  he  (the  President)  was  invited  on  the 
2nd  of  November  to  make  an  address  after  the 
oration  by  Mr.  Everett." 


296  .  Letters-Essays 


Major  Henry  C.  Whitney,  who  was  in  close  in 
timacy  with  Lincoln  for  seventeen  years,  in  his 
"  Life  on  the  Circuit  With  Lincoln,"  published 
in  1892,  after  stating  that  Lincoln's  speech  at 
Gettysburg  was  a  masterpiece  of  eloquence,  fur 
ther  says: 

' '  But  it  was  not  hastily  written  in  the  cars  on 
his  way  to  the  ground,  as  is  claimed,  but  was 
written,  corrected,  revised  and  rewritten. ' ' 

Noah  Brooks  was  another  noted  correspondent 
stationed  at  Washington  during  the  war.  He 
had  known  Lincoln  in  Illinois,  and  he  enjoyed  the 
intimacy  and  confidence  of  Mr.  Lincoln  to  quite 
an  extent.  In  his  "  Washington  in  Lincoln's 
Time,"  published  in  1895,  he  says  that  on  the 
Sunday  preceding  the  dedication  ceremonies  at 
Gettysburg,  he  had  an  appointment  to  go  with 
the  President  to  a  photographer;  that  as  they 
were  going  down  the  stairs  of  the  White  House, 
the  President,  excusing  himself,  returned  to  his 
office,  and  presently  returned  with  a  large  en 
velope  in  which  he  stated  was  an  advance  copy 
of  Mr.  Everett's  oration;  that  Everett  had  kindly 
sent  it  to  'him  that  he  might  not  traverse  the 
same  lines  in  his  oration;  that,  in  reply  to  an  in 
quiry  if  his  speech  had  already  been  written,  he 
said  that  it  had,  but  not  finished  and  was  very 
short,  so  short  that  he  had  brought  the  paper 
along,  hoping  that  in  any  moments  of  leisure  at 
the  photographer's  he  might  review  it  a  little; 
that  the  envelope  containing  Everett's  oration 


Lincoln's  Gettysburg  Address  297 

lay  on  a  stand  and  was  taken  in  the  picture  of  the 
President. 

General  James  B.  Frye,  who  was  Provost  Mar 
shal  General  and  designated  by  the  War  Depart 
ment  as  a  special  escort  to  the  President  from 
Washington  to  Gettysburg,  says  in  his  tribute  to 
Lincoln : 

' '  It  has  been  said,  I  believe,  that  Lincoln  wrote 
in  the  car  en  route  to  Gettysburg  the  celebrated 
speech  which  he  delivered  upon  that  historic  bat 
tle  ground.  I  am  quite  sure  that  is  an  error.  I 
have  no  recollection  of  seeing  him  writing  or 
even  reading  his  speech  during  the  journey.  In 
fact,  .there  was  hardly  any  opportunity  for  him 
to  read  or  write. ' ' 

But  the  most  positive  testimony  as  to  where 
the  address  was  written  and  as  to  its  reception 
by  that  vast  audience  when  delivered,  is  fur 
nished  by  Ward  Hill  Lamon  in  his  ' '  Kecollections 
of  Abraham  Lincoln."  He  was  the  Marshal  of 
the  District  of  Columbia  and  accompanied  the 
President  to  Gettysburg  as  a  sort  of  body  guard, 
and  as  such  had  a  seat  on  the  platform  not 
twenty  feet  'distant  from  the  President.  He  de 
votes  one  entire  chapter  to  "  The  True  Story  of 
the  Gettysburg  Speech."  The  substance  of  what 
he  has  to  say  bearing  on  the  point  of  where  it 
was  written  and  how  it  was  received,  greatly 
condensed,  is  as  follows: 

"  A  day  or  two  before  the  dedication,  Mr.  Lin 
coln  told  me  that  he  would  be  expected  to  speak, 
that  he  was  extremely  busy  and  greatly  feared 
he  would  not  be  'able  to  acquit  himself  with 


298  Letters-Essays 


credit.  He  drew  from  his  hat  a  sheet  of  foolscap, 
one  side  of  which  was  closely  written,  which,  he 
informed  me,  was  his  intended  speech.  This  he 
read  to  me,  first  remarking  that  it  was  not  at  all 
satisfactory  to  him.  It  proved  to  be,  in  substance, 
if  not  in  exact  words,  what  was  afterward  printed 
as  his  famous  Gettysburg  speech.  Immediately 
after  its  delivery,  an'd  while  on  the  stand,  the 
President,  turning  to  me,  said:  *  Lamon,  that 
speech  won't  scour.  It  is  a  flat  failure  and 
the  people  are  disappointed.'  While  still  on  the 
platform,  Mr.  Seward  turned  to  Mr.  Everett  and 
asked  him  what  he  thought  of  the  President's 
speech.  Mr.  Everett  replied:  *  It  is  not  what  I 
expected  of  him.  I  am  disappointed.'  Then,  in 
turn,  Mr.  Everett  asked:  *  What  do  you  think 
of  it,  Mr.  Seward?  '  The  response  was:  '  He  has 
made  a  failure,  and  I  am  sorry  for  it.  His  speech 
is  not  equal  to  him.'  Mr.  Seward  then  turned 
to  me  and  asked:  '  Mr.  Marshal,  what  do  you 
think  of  it?  '  I  answered:  *  I  am  sorry  to  say  it 
does  not  impress  me  as  one  of  his  great  speeches. ' 
In  the  face  of  these  facts  it  has  been  repeatedly 
published  that  the  speech  was  received  with 
loud  demonstrations  of  approval,  and  that  Mr. 
Everett  turned  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  grasped  his  hand 
and  exclaimed:  '  I  congratulate  you  on  your  suc 
cess.  How  gladly  would  I  give  my  hundred  pages 
to  be  the  author  of  your  twenty  lines.'  Nothing 
of  the  kind  occurred. ' ' 

In  the  great  work  of  Nicolay  and  Hay,  his  pri 
vate  secretaries,  nothing  is  said  as  to  the  prep 
aration  of  this  speech,  or  as  to  how  it  was  re 
ceived  on  its  delivery,  but  they  do  state  that  the 
President  was  officially  invited  on  November  2nd 


Lincoln's  Gettysburg  Address  299 

to  speak  at  the  dedicatory  services,  thus  giving 
him  seventeen  days'  notice. 

On  the  day  following  the  dedication,  Mr.  Ev 
erett  wrote  the  President  a  letter,  in  which,  after 
thanking  him  for  securing  his  daughter  accom 
modation  on  the  platform  at  the  ceremonies,  uses 
this  language: 

"  Permit  me  also  to  express  my  great  admira 
tion  of  the  thoughts  expressed  by  you  with  such 
eloquent  simplicity  and  appropriateness  at  the 
consecration  of  the  cemetery.  I  should  be  glad 
if  I  could  flatter  myself  that  I  came  as  near  to 
the  central  idea  of  the  occasion  in  two  hours  as 
you  did  in  two  minutes. ' ' 

These  words  tally  somewhat  with  the  remarks 
attributed  to  Mr.  Everett  at  the  time  on  the 
platform,  and  may  they  not,  after  all,  have  been 
the  foundation  for  the  fulsome  words  of  praise 
which  gained  such  currency,  because  of  the  great 
love  of  the  people  for  Mr.  Lincoln? 

However,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  address 
was  not  at  the  time  of  its  delivery  or  for  some 
time  'afterward  fully  appreciated  by  our  people. 
It  seems  to  have  been  first  recognized  as  a  mas- 
terpice  by  The  London  Spectator  and  other  lit 
erary  English  journals.  Slowly  it  came  to  us  as 
a  gem  in  literature  and  eloquence,  and  now,  forty 
years  after  its  delivery,  the  school  boys  all  over 
the  land  know  it  by  heart.  "  It  will  live,"  as  a 
great  orator  has  said,  * '  until  languages  are  dead 
and  lips  are  dust." 

This  is  the  testimony  bearing  on  the  writing 


300  Letters-Essays 


and  reception  of  this  great  address  so  far  'as  I 
have  been  able  to  learn.  I  trust  in  giving  it  I 
have  hurt  the  feelings  of  none,  and  injured  not 
the  admiration  of  any,  for  I  myself  look  upon 
Abraham  Lincoln  as  the  grandest  and  noblest 
character  in  our  history,  if  not  in  tall  history. 

Many  years  ago  an  item  went  -the  rounds  of 
the  press  that  the  original  manuscript  of  the 
speech  was  sold  for  $335.  Gladly  would  I  give 
that  sum  for  it.  Who  purchased  it  or  where  it 
is  now  held  I  do  not  learn.  The  facsimile  copies 
which  we  have  are  taken  from  the  copy  of  it 
made  by  Lincoln  for  the  soldiers  and  sailors  fair 
held  in  Baltimore  in  1864. 

To  enter  into  the  full  spirit  of  this  address 
we  should,  for  the  moment,  fancy  ourselves  in  that 
great  cemetery  of  the  dead,  in  the  sight  of  Little 
Bound  Top  and  Cemetery  Ridge,  with  the  war 
still  going  on. 

LINCOLN'S  ADDRESS. 

Four  score  and  seven  years  ago  our  fathers 
brought  forth  on  this  continent  a  new  nation,  con 
ceived  in  liberty,  and  dedicated  to  the  proposition 
that  all  men  are  created  equal.  Now  we  are  en 
gaged  in  a  great  civil  war,  testing  whether  that 
nation,  or  any  nation  so  conceived  and  so  dedi 
cated,  can  long  endure.  We  are  met  on  a  great 
battle-field  of  that  war.  We  have  come  to  dedi 
cate  a  portion  of  that  field  as  a  final  resting  place 
for  those  who  here  gave  their  lives  that  that  na 
tion  might  live.  It  is  altogether  fitting  and 
proper  that  we  should  do  this.  But,  in  a  larger 


Lincoln's   Gettysburg  Address  301 

sense,  we  cannot  dedicate,  we  cannot  consecrate, 
we  cannot  hallow  this  ground.  The  brave  men, 
living  and  dead,  who  struggled  here,  have  conse 
crated  it  far  above  our  poor  power  to  add  or  de 
tract.  The  world  will  little  note,  nor  long  re 
member  what  we  say  here,  but  it  can  never  for 
get  what  they  did  here.  It  is  for  us,  the  living, 
rather  to  be  dedicated  here  to  the  unfinished  work 
which  they  who  fought  here  have  thus  far  so 
nobly  advanced.  It  is  rather  for  us  to  be  here 
dedicated  to  the  great  task  remaining  before  us, 
that  from  these  honored  dead  we  take  increased 
devotion  to  that  cause  for  which  they  gave  the 
last  full  measure  of  devotion,  that  we  here  highly 
resolve  that  these  dead  shall  not  have  died  in 
vain;  that  this  nation,  under  God,  shall  have  a 
new  birth  of  freedom,  and  that  government  of  the 
people,  by  the  people,  for  the  people,  shall  not 
perish  from  the  earth. 

NOTE. — On  sending  a  copy  of  this  address  to  the  Hon. 
John  Hay,  Secretary  of  State,  Washington,  D.  C.,  he  replied 
that  he  owned  two  drafts  of  the  address  in  Mr.  Lincoln's 
handwriting,  thus  practically  refuting  the  story  that  it  was 
written  on  the  train  to  Gettysburg. 


2>r.  IRe^nolb  flfo. 


NDER  the  mutations  of  time,  and,  as  many 
believe,  the  dispensation  of  the  Almighty, 
Dr.  Reynold  M.  Kirby,  rector  of  Trinity 
Parish,  was  called  hence  early  in  the 
morning  of  February  6th,  1906,  while  sitting  in 
his  study,  his  attitude  in  every  way  denoting  that 
the  final  summons  came  to  him  while  in  perfect 
ease  and  composure,  unannounced  and  unaccom 
panied  with  trial  or  sorrow  or  pain.  It  was  a 
lovely  way  in  which  to  die,  if  the  time  be  come, 
and  a  fitter  place  could  not  be  than  in  his  study, 
where  he  had  worked  and  wrought  so  many  years, 
surrounded  by  his  books,  his  desks  and  his  pic 
tures  of  noble  characters  and  loved  ones  upon  the 
walls,  into  whose  faces  he  had  looked  so  often  for 
memories,  for  comfort  and  for  inspiration. 

Death  came  to  him  as  the  sweetest  slumber 
comes  to  childhood,  and  it  was  eminently  fit  and 
proper  that  it  should  -so  come.  Indeed,  I  cannot 
keep  back  the  thought  that  the  Almighty  was 
thus  kind  to  him  in  return  for  and  in  recognition 
of  his  gentle,  loving  and  noble  life  and  living. 

Dr.  Kirby,  as  he  wais  familiarly  called,  had  been 
with  and  amongst  us  for  just  twenty-four  years 
on  the  day  preceding  his  death.  I  knew  him  well 


DR.    REYNOLD  M.   KIRBY 


Dr.  Reynold  M.  Kirby  303 

and  intimately  for  more  than  twenty  years,  and 
I  loved  him.  His  frank,  honest,  open,  candid  na 
ture  found  and  won  friends  for  him  at  once  on 
his  coming,  and  very  soon  he  had  our  people,  high 
and  low,  rich  and  poor,  for  he  recognized  no 
phases  in  life,  in  the  kindliest  fellowship,  which 
he  kept  and  held  without  mar  or  blemish  till  the 
end.  Though  of  a  thoughtful  nature,  perhaps  se 
rious  at  times,  his  face  would  ever  light  up  at  a 
word  or  a  greeting. 

As  he  walked  the  streets  it  was  a  great  -charac 
teristic  of  him  to  drop  the  head  forward  with  his 
hands  locked  behind  him,  as  if  thinking  or  in  deep 
meditation,  which  was  the  case,  as  was  shown  by 
his  surprise  on  meeting  a  friend  who  addressed 
him. 

He  was  not  only  an  intelligent  man,  but  in 
tellectual  as  well,  the  long  and  patient  study  to 
attain  which  was  plainly  shown  in  'his  face.  He 
had  the  look  of  the  scholar,  and  such  he  was. 
Many  young  men  and  women  went  to  him  for  aid 
when  sore  perplexed  and  distressed  in  their 
studies,  both  for  mental  and  financial  assistance. 
His  very  soul  went  out  to  those  who  were  strug 
gling  to  complete  their  course  in  school  and  un 
able  to  do  so  for  want  of  the  necessary  means. 
Many  are  the  students  who  have  reason  to  thank 
him  for  help  in  time  of  need.  If  he  had  not  the 
money  he  obtained  it  of  kindly  disposed  people, 
many  of  whom  would  not  have  given  it  but  for 
his  solicitation. 


304  Letters-Essay* 

But  greater  than  this,  he  had  the  tenderest  care 
for  and  interest  in  the  destitute  and  abject  poor, 
especially  of  his  flock,  though  he  did  not  wholly 
confine  his  help  and  ministrations  to  them.  Un 
like  most  men,  he  somehow  heard  of  them,  found 
them,  went  in  unto  them  and  ministered  to  them, 
not  lavishly,  but  kindly  and  humanely.  Always 
welcome  when  he  entered  the  homes  of  the  pros 
perous,  what  must  have  been  his  welcome  as  he 
went  into  these  cold,  cheerless  and  destitute  homes 
to  cheer,  to  encourage  and  to  help?  What  mis 
sion  of  man  is  greater  than  this?  Such  a  man  was 
Dr.  Kirby. 

Then,  too,  he  was  upright,  pure  and  honest. 
Honest  with  himself  and  therefore  honest  with 
and  towards  alL  If  others  in  this  respect  weak 
ened  or  fell,  he  did  not  abjure  or  renounce,  but 
tendered  a  helping  hand  to  rise  and  do  better. 
He  fully  recognized  the  frailties  and  weakenesses 
of  men  and  that  error  in  many  cases  should  be 
condoned  and  the  transgressor  aided  and  led  into 
new  ways. 

His  nature  as  also  his  life  was  really  and  truly 
that  of  brotherly  love.  And  yet,  in  all  his  min 
istrations  he  did  not  go  to  the  poor  or  afflicted 
with  a  sad  or  disconsolate  face,  nor  did  he  weep 
nor  cry  with  them.  Oh,  no.  Bather  he  took  cheer 
and  comfort  and  resolute  purpose  to  rise,  to  make 
amends  and  to  get  rid  of  and  over  troubles.  His 
belief,  as  also  his  purpose,  was  always  and  ever 
to  help  others  to  rise  and  not  to  lift  or  carry 


Dr.  Reynold  M.  Kirby  305 

them.  Many  instances  of  his  ministrations  and 
of  his  helping,  even  where  the  law  would  have 
imprisoned,  could  be  given,  but  to  do  so  would 
add  nothing  among  those  who  knew  him  so  well. 

And  though  a  minister,  he  felt  that  he  was  a 
citizen,  and  bore  the  duties  and  responsibilities 
of  citizenship.  He  kept  himself  well  informed 
and  advised  on  all  questions  of  the  day. 

At  heart  he  was  a  reformer,  but  he  did  not  be 
lieve  it  was  the  duty  of  ordinary  men  to  cry  or 
wail  over  the  perfidy  and  rascality  now  and  then 
brought  to  light  in  political  life.  It  were  better, 
as  he  thought,  to  go  with  the  tide  which  we  must, 
happily  and  pleasantly,  trying  the  while  to 
cleanse  and  purify  it. 

And  more  than  this,  there  was  no  cant  or  non 
sense  or  hypocrisy  in  his  nature  or  life.  He  was 
ever  and  always  just  what  he  appeared  to  be,  a 
true,  kind,  loving  and  lovable  man.  For  very 
nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  he  has  been 
amongst  us,  in  our  homes,  offices  and  business 
places,  always  welcome  because  of  the  companion 
ship  and  good  cheer  which  he  brought,  and  not  a 
word  or  even  a  whisper  was  ever  uttered  or  heard 
to  mar  or  stain  his  good  name  or  his  character. 
This  is  the  true  test  of  honor,  probity  and  noble 
ness  of  character.  In  truth,  there  is  no  other  way 
in  which  -to  gain  and  win  them,  and  no  one,  for 
such  a  period,  can  secure  and  hold  them  except 
by  exalted  and  right  living. 

The  great  attendance  at  his  funeral  attests  these 


306  Letters-Essays 


virtues  in  Mm  and  bespeaks  the  estimation  in 
which  he  was  held  by  all  our  people  better  than 
any  words  I  can  pen.  Cut  off  too  early,  his  work 
not  quite  done,  his  children,  whom  he  dearly 
loved,  just  coming  into  full  life  to  cheer  him  down 
the  western  slope,  seems  sad,  so  sad  that  I  am 
almost  tempted  to  ask,  why?  I  do  not,  because 
we  are  not  permitted  to  know  the  will  of  the 
Father.  It  must  be  for  the  best  and  we  so  ac 
cept  it. 

We  shall  miss  him  in  our  stores,  shops,  offices, 
on  the  street  and  in  our  homes,  for  he  was  wont 
to  be  with  and  amongst  us.  His  memory  and  his 
spirit  will  long  linger  with  us  and  it  is  well  that 
they  do. 

Departed  friend,  peace  be  to  thee  and  to  thy 
spirit.  Farewell. 


AKI5IK   S.    LANDERS 


Hbbie  S.  %anbers 


O 


N  Saturday,  April  21, 1906,  our  people  were 
both  startled  and  shocked  by  a  telegram 
announcing  the  death  that  morning  of 
Mrs.  Abbie  Brooks  Landers  at  the  home 
of  her  cousin,  Mrs.  Lester  C.  Shepard,  in  Somer- 
ville,  Mass.,  where  she  had  gone  only  a  few  days 
before  to  rest  and  to  visit.  On  reaching  her 
cousin's  home  she  had  a  slight  cold  which  she 
treated  lightly.  Growing  worse  a  physician  was 
summoned  who  regarded  her  trouble  as  mental 
and  physical  fatigue,  only  requiring  rest  and 
quiet. 

Not  getting  any  better  some  specialists  were 
called  in  who  regarded  her  case  as  serious.  A 
message  was  immediately  -sent  to  her  daughter, 
Margaret,  and  son-in-law,  Dr.  Hugh  A.  Grant, 
who  were  spending  a  short  time  at  Long  Lake,  in 
the  Adirondacks.  As  soon  as  received  they 
started  to  go  to  her,  reaching  there  at  noon  on 
Saturday,  but  too  late  for  greetings  or  farewell. 
Her  spirit  had  taken  its  flight. 

Not  until  they  reached  the  home  of  Mr.  Shepard 
did  they  learn  of  their  mother's  demise,  though 
telegrams  had  been  sent  to  intercept  them  on  the 


308  Letters-Essays 


way.  "What  anguis'h  and  bereavement  must  have 
been  that  of  the  daughter  as  she  entered  that 
home.  But  recently  parted  in  health  and  in  the 
best  of  spirits,  with  a  bright,  cheerful,  happy  life 
before  them.  How  siad,  even  bewildering  are  some 
of  the  incidents  that  befall  us  in  life.  We  mourn 
and  cry,  but  still  they  come.  It  must  be  that  it  is 
all  for  the  best  or  it  would  not  be  so.  We  see  not 
and  know  not. 

For  some  thirty-six  hours  before  her  demise  she 
was  unable  to  speak  though  at  times  at  least  was 
conscious  and  with  her  eyes  showed  that  she 
understood.  Just  as  she  was  falling  into  this 
feeble  state,  on  hearing  a  door  open,  she  whispered 
faintly  to  the  nurse  the  name  Margaret,  thinking 
or  at  least  wishing  the  one  uppermost  in  her 
thoughts  was  coming.  And  soon  she  passed  away 
with  her  daughter's  name  the  last  upon  her  lips. 

The  love,  deep,  earnest  and  sincere  held  by 
Abbie  (for  such  she  was  universally  called  by 
all  our  people)  for  her  Margaret  and  that  of  Mar 
garet  for  her  mother  have  been  the  pride  and 
admiration  of  all.  It  does  not  seem  possible  that 
two  persons  could  live  for  or  more  in  one  another 
than  did  they.  Life  to  them  was  a  blessing  for  the 
other.  They  almost  seemed  to  live  to  make  each 
other  happy.  Especially  so  was  this  the  case  with 
Abbie,  since  her  natural  love  was  intensified  by 
that  of  motherhood.  Gladly  would  she  take  and 
bear  all  the  ills  that  came  to  her  Margaret. 

Her  feeling  for,  her  interest  in,  her  love  for  her 


Abbie  S.  Landers  309 

Margaret  was  deep,  unalloyed  and  even  hallowed. 
It  filled  and  pervaded  her  whole  life.  For  such, 
at  least,  it  must  be  there  will  be  a  meeting  again. 
God  could  not  thus  rend  and  break  such  affection 
without  a  reunion  sometime  and  somewhere.  Let 
us  think  and  believe  that  this  is  so.  We  are  the 
better  for  so  thinking. 

Abbie,  for  such  she  was  called,  was  the  daughter 
of  Hon.  Erasmus  D.  Brooks  and  born  in  Parish- 
ville,  July  19, 1850.  With  her  parents  she  came  to 
this  village  in  1858  where  she  has  since  resided. 

As  a  girl  and  young  lady  she  was  bright,  active, 
vivacious  and  most  genial  and  social.  She  was 
quite  an  accomplished  singer  and  sang  freely  in 
choirs,  at  funerals  and  on  public  occasions.  Full 
of  life  and  good  cheer,  happy,  quick  at  repartee, 
she  was  a  welcome  guest  everywhere.  She  was 
the  spirit  and  life  of  every  gathering  into  which 
she  came.  She  also  possessed  extraordinary  con 
versational  ability,  being  apt,  versatile,  bright 
and  entertaining,  be  the  guests  men  or  women  or 
both.  With  her  present  there  could  be  no  apathy 
or  dullness.  She  radiated  cheer  and  life  and 
laughter.  Her  home  was  one  of  much  cheerful 
ness  and  happiness,  and  it  was  seldom  there  were 
not  guests  there  to  enjoy  it.  Her  hospitality  was 
proverbial. 

And  then  too  she  possessed  a  warm,  kindly 
heart  and  most  generous  and  hospitable  nature. 
She  was  ever  cheering  and  comforting  the  afflicted 
and  sorrowing,  and  giving  generously  to  the  poor 


310  Letters-Essays 


and  lowly.  Many  of  them  came  to  see  her  in  her 
last  sleep,  and  it  is  certain  that  none  of  all  who 
came  were  more  welcome  to  her  spirit.  She  knew 
everyone  iand  everyone  knew  her.  No  one,  no 
matter  how  poor  and  lowly  was  beneath  her  greet 
ing  and  recognition.  This  trait,  with  her  bright 
ness  and  wholesome  geniality  made  her  the 
beloved  of  all. 

She  married  William  A.  Landers  October  30, 
1877.  He  was  a  clothing  merchant  in  Potsdam  for 
some  years.  He  died  October  14,  1881.  To  them 
were  born  a  son,  October  25,  1879,  who  died  two 
days  later  and  a  daughter,  Margaret,  June  15, 
1881.  Margaret  married  Dr.  Hugh  A.  Grant,  of 
this  village,  May  24,  1905.  Since  her  marriage 
they  have  lived  with  her  mother. 

The  funeral  took  place  on  Tuesday,  April  24,  at 
her  home.  There  was  a  large  attendance. 

The  remains  were  buried  in  Bayside  with  those 
of  her  husband,  father,  mother  and  three  brothers. 


CARLTON   E.   AND   SILAS  II.   SANFORD 


TEbe  farmer  Bo^s  of 

H0o  anb  Bow 


I 


HAVE  wondered  many,  many  times  in  the 
past  whether  the  boys  out  on  the  farms 
today  are  the  same  boys  and  living  the 
same  life  as  did  the  boys  of  half  a  cen 
tury  ago,  and  I  suppose  I  shall  keep  on  wondering 
and  with  increasing  interest  till  my  lips  are  quiet 
and  the  brain  has  ceased  to  dwell  on  the  past.  As 
men  grow  old,  get  well  along  on  the  highway  of 
life  and  over  the  summit  in  their  careers  and  see 
as  the  most  of  them  do  that  they  have  not  achieved 
in  life  anything  like  what  they  expected  to  when 
they  were  boys,  or,  even  if  they  partially  have, 
that  it  does  not  seem  to  be  worth  what  they 
expected,  then  they  are  quite  apt  to  pine,  seeing 
that  future  achievement  is  at  an  end,  to  drop  into 
reveries,  to  look  backward  instead  of  forward 
and  to  live  the  past  over  again. 

It  seems  pitiful  and  even  sad  to  see  and  listen 
to  an  old  man  who  has  been  a  force  in  a  locality 
unable  longer  to  cope  with  the  younger  men  who 
have  come  to  the  front  and  crowded  him  to  one 
side,  telling  over  and  over  again  as  many  of  them 
do,  the  smart  things  they  did,  the  bold  strokes 
they  made,  the  successes  they  achieved,  and  yet 


312  Letters-Essays 


it  must  be  all  right  since  it  is  a  quite  common 
characteristic  of  old  age. 

I  trust  I  have  not  yet  quite  reached  this  stage  in 
life  though  I  must  confess  that  my  boyhood  days 
are  beginning  to  be  a  frequent  visitor  to  my  mind 
and  the  sweetest  remembrance  in  my  life.  How  I 
would  like  to  go  back  to  them  and  live  them  over 
once  again  !  Such  health  and  vigor  and  life.  Such 
abandon  and  freedom.  Such  thoughtless  spirit 
and  tireless  activity.  Such  rolicksome  life,  sport, 
fun  and  mild  deviltry  <all  intermixed  and  inter 
woven,  making  life  from  six  to  fourteen  one  grand 
gala  day  of  happiness  and  abandon.  Happy  days 
those.  No  particular  cares  or  responsibilities. 
Father  and  mother  were  bearing  all  of  these,  often 
it  must  be  said,  with  aching  hearts.  Do  what 
they  would  they  knew  that  the  father's  interest 
in  them  and  the  mother's  love  would  come  to  the 
rescue  as  they  returned  at  night  tired  and  sleepy, 
little  thinking  of  the  real  worth  and  value  of  that 
interest  and  that  love.  Oh!  if  they  would  but 
listen  to  and  heed  the  advice,  admonitions  and 
these  prayers  how  benignly  in  after  life  would 
they  render  thanks  to  their  parents. 

But  I  am  digressing.  Are  the  boys  out  on  the 
farms  today  as  healthy,  vigorous  and  robust,  and 
do  they  have  as  much  fun  as  did  the  boys  of  fifty 
years  ago  f  I  would  like  to  know  what  manner  of 
boys  they  are  and  what  their  life  is.  How  they 
and  thair  life  compare  with  those  of  fifty  years 
ago.  I  don't  suppose  I  can  find  out,  just  the  same 


The  Farmer  Boys  313 

I  would  like  to  know.  Some  tell  me,  and  I  am 
tempted  now  and  then  to  believe  that  we  are 
slowly  deteriorating  in  size,  in  robustness,  and 
in  virility,  both  in  body  and  mind,  that  we  today 
with  all  our  warm  clothing,  warm  houses,  and 
labor  saving  machinery  are  not  as  strong,  vigorous 
and  valiant  as  the  pioneers  who  came  in  here  one 
hundred  years  ago  and  chopped  homes  out  of  the 
forest.  If  we  can  believe  the  stories  of  our  old 
men,  the  men  of  today  certainly  do  not  equal 
those  pioneers  in  size  or  strength,  physically  or 
mentally.  I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  take  some  con 
solation  in  explaining  this,  that  only  the  larger 
and  most  vigorous  emigrated  from  New  England 
to  this  primitive  wilderness.  Whether  this  be  a 
full  explanation  or  not,  it  is  quite  certain  that 
our  present  mode  of  life  does  not  call  for  nor  is 
it  so  conducive  to  lung  and  muscle  building  as 
in  those  early  times. 

I  have  sought  on  every  occasion  for  years  past 
to  learn  what  manner  of  boys  are  out  on  the 
farms  today,  but,  I  regret  to  say,  with  very  little 
success.  I  have  not  taken  so  much  interest  in 
village  boys,  for  I  was  not  a  village  boy.  The 
homes  of  the  village  boys  are  only  a  few  rods 
apart,  bringing  the  boys  together  all  the  while, 
and  besides  they  have  far  more  leisure  than 
farmer  boys.  Then,  too,  the  schools  make  them 
acquainted  with  all  the  boys  in  the  village.  They 
have  something  to  distract,  interest  and  amuse 
them  all  the  while.  But,  with  their  advantages 


314  Letters-Essays 


in  this  respect,  they  have  temptations  which  do 
not  beset  the  farmer  boy,  such  as  gambling  and 
billiard  parlors,  saloons,  &c.  The  farmer  boy  is 
free  of  these,  but  his  life  is  isolated,  and  a  quiet 
one.  All  the  sport  and  fun  that  he  gets  he  must 
make  himself. 

There  is  nothing  much  more  certain  than  that 
the  boy  who  frequents  the  saloon  for  long  is  lost. 
It  may  not  be  through  drunkenness,  but  through 
idleness,  shiftlessness,  damaging  associates  and 
loss  of  interest  in  all  worthy  things  which  can 
build  and  develop  a  young  man. 

No,  the  farmer  boys  are  the  ones  that  interest 
me.  They  are  the  ones  who  make  most  of  the 
strong  men  of  the  country,  great  lawyers,  states 
men  and  captains  of  industry. 

I  know  very  well  that  the  only  way  to  learn 
what  kind  of  metal  the  farmer  boys  are  made  of 
would  be  to  get  into  a  home  where  there  are  two 
or  more  boys  between  the  ages  of  eight  and  four 
teen,  and  live  with  them  at  least  a  full  year,  and 
see  and  feel  them  live  in  rain  and  shine,  in  warm 
and  cold  weather.  But  this  I  can  not  do,  even 
could  I  find  a  home  with  such  a  number  of  boys. 
A  home  of  one  boy  would  not  do  at  all. 

I  suppose  there  are  yet  homes  with  two  or  more 
boys,  but  I  have  learned  of  only  one  and  that  has 
two. 


Two  Boys  in  Church  315 

1In  Cburcb 

These  I  saw  in  church,  recently  with  their 
mother.  They  were  nearly  of  the  same  age, — 
healthy  and  as  full  of  mild  deviltry  as  an  egg  is 
of  meat.  When  they  took  their  seats  both  were 
at  the  left  of  the  mother  in  the  far  end  of  the 
pew.  It  was  not  long  before  there  began  to  be 
uneasiness,  motion  and  gentle  antics.  The  mother 
looked  reprovingly  and  they  were  still.  She  must 
look  at  the  minister  else  he  and  others  would  not 
think  she  was  worshipful.  She  did  so,  and  the 
antics  began  again,  with  the  boys  cocking  their 
heads  and  rolling  their  eyes  watching  her  the 
while  to  see  how  much  they  could  do  or  how  far 
they  could  go  with  their  fun.  Gently  it  increased 
till  presently  the  mother  half  raised  from  her  seat 
and  the  boy  nearest  her  slipped  along  the  pew  to 
the  other  side  of  her.  This  brought  her  between 
them,  she  thinking  no  doubt,  as  I  did,  that  it 
would  stop  the  frolic.  I  was  close  by  and  watch 
ing.  Several  others  were  also  and  smiling, 
though  in  church  with  the  preacher  telling  them 
the  only  way  in  which  they  could  be  saved. 

The  boys  noticed  me  and  turned  their  bright 
eyes  to  me  approvingly.  What  can  they  do  now, 
thought  I.  Presently  the  boy  on  the  left  let  his 
right  arm  'hang  limply  over  the  back  of  the  pew. 
He  swung  it  a  little  but  the  boy  on  the  other  side 
did  not  notice.  Then  he  quietly  scratched  the 
back  of  the  pew.  I  heard  it  but  the  brother 
didn't.  Failing  in  this  he  moved  a  little  closer 


316  Letters-Essays 


to  mother  so  his  short  arm  could  reach  and  then 
slowly  worked  it  up  to  touch  him.  He  knew  that 
would  be  all  that  was  necessary — that  he  was  just 
as  dying  to  do  something  as  he  was.  The  boy  on 
the  right  felt  the  touch,  but  he  didn't  jump  or 
disturb  mother.  Slowly  he  got  himself  into  such 
a  position  that  he  could  let  his  left  arm  fall  over 
the  back  of  the  pew.  Both,  with  arms  limp, 
remained  quiet  for  a  little  that  mother  might  lae 
composed,  when  the  fingers  of  each  began  to 
twitch  and  play,  then  hands  and  arms  to  swing. 
Presently  they  touched,  caught,  pulled,  watching 
the  mother  all  the  while  with  upturned  face.  The 
pulling  growing  stronger  the  mother  either  felt  or 
heard  them  when  she  with  scorn  in  look  (only 
apparent,  not  real)  reached  and  quietly  brought 
two  little  hands  over  the  pew  down  beside  her  and 
held  them  in  her  own.  She  then  had  them  and 
thus  they  sat  till  near  the  close.  She  was  proud 
of  them  I  could  see.  All  mothers  are  of  live  boys, 
just  full  of  the  "  old  nick."  I  was  too.  They 
didn't  pay  much  attention  to  the  preaching  nor 
did  I.  I  can't  recall  'a  point  the  minister  made, 
but  I  shall  not  soon  forget  those  little  boys. 

They  took  me  back  fifty  years  or  more.  I  forgot 
my  surroundings  and  during  that  service  lived  in 
the  past  when  my  brother  and  I  sat  on  either 
side  of  mother  in  church,  so  uneasy  to  do  some 
thing,  so  restless  and  fairly  aching  that  we 
thought  we  should  die. 


Few  Farmer  Boys  Now  317 

jfew  farmer  Bo\>s  IRow 

Alas,  the  boys  on  the  farm  have  gone  or  rather 
I  should  say,  have  not  come.  Eecently  I  met  a 
friend,  a  resident  of  my  old  school  district  and 
we  had  a  little  talk  on  the  times  of  long  ago.  The 
district  where  I  went  to  school  had  over  twenty 
scholars  in  the  winter  term.  Over  twenty  years 
ago  it  was  thrown  up  and  abandoned  for  want  of 
scholars.  Today  there  are  only  two  children  in 
the  district.  The  school  a  mile  north  used  to  have 
over  thirty  scholars  in  the  winter  term  and  now 
has  six.  The  district  two  miles  west  was  of  equal 
size  and  now  has  less  than  ten.  Another  district 
a  mile  east  is  in  a  similar  shape.  And  so  it  is  all 
over  the  country,  especially  throughout  the  east. 

What  is  the  matter?  Why  is  this?  I  hear  and 
read  a  great  deal  as  'to  "  race  suicide  "  in  the 
cities  and  large  villages,  and  it  is  true  to  an 
alarming  extent,  but  I  did  not  know  that  it  had 
extended  to  the  rural  districts  until  I  came  to 
investigate  a  little. 

Were  we  raising  boys  out  on  the  farm  as  they 
did  fifty  years  ago  there  would  be  no  such  wail 
ing  cry  for  farm  help  as  there  is  now,  and  is 
likely  to  be  with  increasing  force.  The  state  of 
things  here  will,  as  matters  now  look,  be  soon  as 
bad  as  it  is  in  Nefw  England. 

President  Roosevelt  may  cry  "  race  suicide  " 
from  the  house  tops  if  he  wishes,  but  it  will  not 
avail  against  the  individual  action  of  but  very 
few,  if  any. 


318  Letters-Essays 


Though  we  do  not  see  it,  it  may  be  best  that 
the  English  race  shall  disappear  or  be  supplanted 
by  foreigners  as  it  surely  will  be,  the  way  things 
are  going,  within  a  few  hundred  years,  at  least  so 
far  as  controlling  the  affairs  of  this  country  is 
concerned.  The  bright  men  admit  it  and  say, 
"  What  do  I  care,  I  will  not  be  here."  "  It 
doesn't  concern  me."  After  all,  does  it  concern 
any  of  us  further  than  I  have  stated.  If  what  the 
ministers  tell  us  be  true,  that  only  one  or  at  the 
most  ten  in  every  hundred  are  saved,  is  it  not 
almost  a  crime  to  bring  children  into  the  world 
at  all? 

But  I  would  like  to  know  what  the  few  boys  out 
on  the  farms  are,  how  they  live,  what  their  sports 
are  and  whether  they  are  as  bright  and  vigorous 
as  those  of  fifty  years  ago.  I  can't  go  and  live 
with  them  and  so  must  content  myself  with  a 
mental  inquiry  and  the  story  of  the  life  of  the 
boys  long  ago  that  those  who  read  these  lines 
may  draw  their  own  conclusion. 

IKHblpplnge 

In  the  first  place  does  father  for  your  little 
errors  and  misdoings  scold,  storm  and  talk  harshly 
and  end  up  by  taking  your  left  hand  in  his  left 
so  that  you  can't  get  away  and  then  lay  on  a 
switch  across  the  back  of  your  legs,  making  you 
dance  and  jump  and  cry  terrifically?  Do  you  not 
then  resolve  that  you  will  never  make  another 


Whippings  319 

misstep  or  do  wrong  again,  and  do  you  ever  keep 
it  ?  Do  you  not  slip  and  fall  right  away  again,  so 
full  of  life  are  you,  and  do  you  not  "  catch  it  " 
again,  making  a  similar  resolve  only  to  fail? 
When  it  is  over,  do  you  not  always  see  mother 
coming  quietly  out  of  a  side  room  where  she  had 
gone  not  to  witness  the  ordeal,  and  does  she  not 
come  to  you  where  you  have  thrown  yourself  on 
the  floor  or  lounge  'crying  and  sobbing,  and  does 
she  not  tenderly  lift  you  up  and  say,  as  only  a 
loving  mother  can,  "  Don't  cry.  It  is  all  over 
now.  It  hurts  me  as  much  as  it  does  you.  You 
won't  do  wrong  any  more,  will  you?"  And 
doesn't  she  kiss  you  and  kiss  your  wet  face  from 
so  much  crying?  And  when  you  have  become  a 
little  calm,  doesn't  she  take  you  by  the  hand  and 
say, ' '  Now  we  will  go  up  to  bed, ' '  and  as  you  and 
she  start,  does  not  she  ask  you  in  a  whisper,  as 
you  reach  the  stairway  door,  to  say  "  Good 
nigttt  ' '  to  father,  who  has  resumed  his  paper,  and 
doesn't  she  have  to  ask  you  several  times  as  you 
stand  there  with  the  back  of  your  hand  in  your 
eye  before  you  can  muster  the  heart  to  do  it? 
Don't  you  faintly,  but  begrudgingly,  finally,  say 
it,  and  does  not  father  reply,  "  Good  night,  my 
boy,"  without  taking  his  eyes  off  the  paper? 

When  you  reach  the  chamber  does  not  mother 
all  the  while  talking  kindly  and  caressingly  help 
you  to  undress,  and  does  she  not  from  an  unseen 
source  produce  a  little  bottle  of  liniment  'and  pro 
ceed  to  bathe  the  whipped  legs?  And  don't  you 


320  Letters-Essays 


feel  grateful  and  love  her  and  know  that  you  have 
one  sure  friend?  When  you  are  in  bed  doesn't 
she  fix  the  pillows  and  the  blankets  and  make  you 
just  easy  and  comfortable  ?  And  when  this  is  done 
doesn't  she  bring  forth  a  "  little  book  bound  in 
black  "  and  read  some  verses  to  you?  Then 
doesn't  she  ask  you  to  promise  that  you  will  be  a 
good  boy  and  not  do  wrong  any  more,  and  are  you 
not  slow  to  grant  her  request?  Does  she  not  have 
to  ask  you  two  or  three  times,  and  when  you  do, 
does  she  not  again  kiss  you  as  you  lay  there,  turn 
out  the  light,  and  softly  go  away,  looking  over 
her  shoulder  as  she  goes? 

Do  the  boys  of  today  have  such  experiences  as 
I  have  related?  I  know  they  have  the  tender 
sympathy  and  loving  kindness  of  the  mother,  if 
they  do,  for  that  is  in  her  bosom  and  her  nature, 
and  nothing  but  the  ecstacy  'of  swell  society  can 
suppress  or  drown  it.  But  do  you  have  the 
whippings?  They  were  pretty  nearly  universal 
fifty  years  ago.  I  hope  you  do  not.  They  are 
brutal  and  wrong  and  I  do  not  believe  do  any 
good  —  a  relic  of  barbaric  times. 

1?e&  £o    Boots 


I  suppose  the  boys  of  today  wear  shoes.  Fifty 
years  ago  we  wore  boots  entirely.  Then  came 
boots  with  a  copper  toe  cap  with  a  red  piece  of 
leather  at  the  front  top  of  the  boot-leg.  Weren't 
they  fine?  Well,  I  think  so.  No  matter  how  deep 


Red  Top  Boots  321 


the  snow,  our  pant  legs  were  tucked  into  the  boot 
leg,  else  the  girls  and  others  would  not  see  this 
red  leather  as  we  walked  into  school.  Weren't 
we  proud  and  didn't  we  stand  up  -straight? 
When  recess  came,  didn  't  the  other  boys  and  even 
the  girls  gather  about  and  make  heroes  of  us, 
feeling  of  the  red  leather  and  toe  piece,  saying 
how  smooth  the  leather  was,  what  a  bright  red, 
what  did  they  cost,  where  did  you  get  them,  wish 
I  could  have  a  pair,  etc.?  Didn't  we  who  had 
them  swell  up  and  strut  around?  Well,  I  think 
so,  but  it  soon  passed  off  and  we  became  plain 
boys  again.  As  the  boys  of  today  wear  shoes 
they  can't  have  any  such  experience  with  red 
top  boots. 

You  also  escape  the  trials  and  tribulations  that 
we  had  pulling  on  our  boots  in  the  morning  and 
off  at  night,  also  the  dirty  job  of  greasing  them 
with  mutton  tallow.  We  all  were  very  proud  of 
our  new  boots  and  did  our  best  to  keep  them  black 
and  glossy  as  long  as  we  could.  To  do  this  they 
had  to  be  greased  often.  We  would  put  them 
under  the  stove  at  night  to  dry.  In  the  morning 
they  would  be  stiff  and  hard,  when  we  would 
apply  hot  tallow  to  them,  usually  with  a  rag, 
rubbing  and  working  them  with  the  hand  till  they 
became  soft  and  pliable,  a  quite  dirty  task. 

But  the  greatest  trial  was  in  getting  them  off 
at  night  after  being  more  or  less  in  the  water 
all  day.  All  farmers  in  those  days  had  what  was 
called  a  "  boot-jack  "  to  assist  in  doing  this. 


322  Letters-Essays 


However,  this  would  not  do  it  were  they  shrunk 
to  the  foot  closely.  The  "  jack  "  we  used,  con 
sisted  of  a  board  a  little  over  a  foot  in  length, 
some  six  inches  wide,  with  a  V  piece  sawed  out  of 
one  end.  A  block  of  board  was  nailed  to  the 
under  side,  just  at  the  foot  of  the  V  to  keep  it 
from  splitting,  but  more  particularly  to  raise  the 
front  end  so  that  the  heel  of  the  boot  could  be 
stuck  hard  into  the  jaw.  The  party  using  it  would 
place  his  other  foot  on  the  heel  of  the  jack  to  hold 
it  in  place,  and  if  the  boot  did  not  come  easy, 
place  the  hand  on  toe  of  the  boot  to  keep  it  down 
that  the  jaw  might  the  better  hold.  But,  as  I 
said  before,  if  the  boot  was  on  tight,  which  was 
often  the  case  with  us  boys,  the  jack  would  not 
bring  it.  At  these  times  nothing  but  severe  hand 
work  would  remove  them.  We  would  sit  on  the 
floor,  take  a  toe  in  one  hand,  heel  in  the  other, 
pull,  and  wriggle  -and  strain,  till  we  were  out  of 
breath,  cross  and  petulant.  The  men  would  sit 
by  and  enjoy  the  struggle,  saying  encouraging 
words,  * '  Hang  on,  you  have  it  started.  Pull  more 
on  the  heel,  you'll  fetch  it  next  time."  Some 
times  we  did  and  sometimes  we  would  only  get 
the  heel  raised  enough  to  pain  us  greatly  across 
the  instep,  when  we  would  get  up  and  hobble 
about,  snivelling  and  begging  of  father  iand  the 
men  to  help  us.  If  it  was  a  hard  case  it  was 
usually  done  in  this  wise, — The  man  would  take 
a  seat  in  a  chair.  We  would  lie  on  our  backs  on 
the  floor  in  front  of  him.  He  would  take  the  boot 


Snow  Drifts  Years  Ago  323 

by  the  toe  and  heel,  place  one  foot  against  the 
end  of  the  body  at  the  juncture  of  our  legs,  and 
pull,  and  wriggle  and  twist  till  he  brought  it. 
'Getting  them  on  in  the  morning  was  often  as 
hard  an  ordeal  as  getting  them  off. 

The  trials  with  boots  years  ago,  gave  the  boys 
bitter  trouble  and  caused  more  snarling,  petu 
lance,  and  naughty  words,  than  any  other  one 
item  in  their  lives,  all  of  which  the  boys  today 
know  nothing  since  they  wear  shoes. 

Snow  Drifts  I£ear0  HQO 

Does  the  snow  fill  the  roads  even  with  the  top  of 
the  fences  now,  and  pile  up  in  mighty  drifts  across 
the  road?  Do  you  sometimes  go  a  whole  week 
without  being  able  to  get  to  the  village  on  account 
of  the  snow  drifts?  When  the  great  storm  is 
over,  do  the  farmers  get  out  the  big  sled,  attach  a 
plow  to  one  side,  hitch  up  a  yoke  of  oxen  or  a 
heavy,  dull  span  of  horses,  get  on  all  the  boys  and 
girls  and  the  women  the  sled  can  hold  to  give  it 
weight,  and  set  out  to  break  a  road,  the  men 
ahead  shoveling  the  great  drifts  too  deep  for  the 
team  to  go  into?  That  was  the  case  every  winter 
half  a  century  ago.  I  hear  you  do  not  have  any 
such  storms  now.  If  not,  you  boys  are  missing 
a  heap  of  fun,  playing  on  the  big  sled,  pushing 
one  another  'off,  even  the  girls,  into  the  snow 
fairly  out  of  sight.  What  sport  we  had,  too, 
going  to  school,  walking  where  we  could  find  it 


324  Letters-Essays 


on  -the  top  of  a  stone  wall,  which  was  entirely 
buried!  Losing  it  we  would  fall  in  out  of  sight 
between  the  wall  and  the  snow  bank.  What  sport 
and  what  fun. 

"Rivalry  In  Scbool 

Do  you  have  great  rivalry  in  the  school  room 
now  to  excel  in  classes,  or  are  there  not  enough  of 
you  to  evoke  it?  In  the  spelling  class  do  you 
stand  in  a  line  as  you  did  at  the  close  of  the 
previous  day,  except  that  the  one  who  was  at  the 
head  has  gone  to  the  foot,  and  when  one  misses 
and  the  next  spells  it  correctly,  does  he  or  she 
step  in  front  and  above  the  one  missing,  making 
the  other  move  down  ?  That  was  the  way  we  did, 
and,  as  I  look  back  upon  it  now,  I  think  it  unkind 
and  even  cruel.  Why  should  not  the  one  who 
moves  up  pass  behind  the  unfortunate  one  I  Does 
the  one  who  wins  now  step  out  quickly  and 
brusquely  take  the  place  above,  often  crowding 
and  elbowing  the  other  down?  Does  the  one  who 
misses  often  seem  dazed,  cry  and  stand  in  her 
place  till  forced  down?  Isn't  that  hard,  and 
especially  with  the  boy  going  up  chuckling,  as  he 
always  does?  Cruel  little  rascal,  he  ought  to  be 
taken  out  in  the  shed  and  whipped. 

That  was  the  way  it  was  years  ago  and  prob 
ably  is  yet,  such  is  the  nature  of  the  boy.  I  was 
a  pretty  good  speller  and  every  day  got  from  the 
foot  to  the  head  or  near  it.  One  girl  gave  me  the 


OLD   TIME   SPELLING  CLASS 


PULLING   OFF  BOOTS 


Rivalry  in  School  325 

most  trouble  of  all  and,  when  she  did  slip,  I 
walked  above  her,  weeping  and  crying,  like  a 
young  lord.  I  am  now  ashamed  of  the  way  I  did 
it.  But  I  well  remember  having  the  conceit  taken 
out  of  me  one  day  by  a  stripling  that  I  shall  never 
forget.  A  boy  by  the  name  of  Francis  Abbott 
came  to  our  school  to  visit  me.  He  was  a  year  or 
two  younger  than  I,  small  of  his  age,  tow-headed, 
and  his  nose  needed  wiping.  It  was  the  custom 
then  if  any  strangers  were  in  the  school  room  to 
ask  them  to  join  the  classes.  Accordingly,  the 
teacher  asked  Mr.  Abbott  if  he  spelled  in  the  first 
class  and  he  replied  that  he  did.  He  was  asked 
to  join  the  class  already  on  the  floor,  and  he 
promptly  did,  taking  his  place  at  the  foot,  when 
the  spelling  began.  I  was  already  at  the  head 
and  with  ten  or  so  between  Abbott  and  me,  little 
did  I  think  (if  he  could  spell  at  all),  that  he  could 
make  me  any  trouble.  But  he  did.  He  moved 
up  one  notch  the  first  time  round,  another  the 
next,  and  the  way  he  spelled  frightened  me.  I 
looked  those  over  between  him  and  me  and  I 
thought  he  would  only  be  able  to  get  one  more 
peg.  But  he  did.  He  kept  moving  up  nearly 
every  time  round.  The  nearer  he  came  the  more 
frightened  I  became.  Would  the  teacher  keep  it 
up  till  that  tow-head  had  got  up  to  me,  or  to  the 
head  of  the  class,  thought  I.  Doesn't  she  see 
what  he  is  doing?  Has  she  not  any  pride  in  her 
class?  The  girl  who  gave  me  my  only  trouble 
stood  next  to  me  and  he  had  got  up  next  to  her. 


326  Letters-Essays 


I  could  see  she  was  as  much  or  more  frightened 
than  I.  She  slipped  the  very  next  time  and  passed 
down  with  tears  in  her  eyes.  The  little  tow-head 
stepped  up  next  to  me.  Did  I  congratulate  him? 
Well  I  think  not.  I  had  my  hands  full  to  control 
my  nerves,  and  more  too.  I  spelled  correctly  the 
first  time  after  he  reached  me  and  so  did  he. 
How  I  did  hope  he  would  miss  and  step  down 
and  let  the  girl  come  back.  For  once  the  rivalry 
with  the  girl  was  over.  I  could  have  stepped 
down  for  her  on  that  occasion  gracefully,  but  to 
have  that  little  tow-head  walk  around  me  was 
awful.  But  he  didn't  miss.  0,  no,  he  never  did. 
Then  I  hoped  this  would  be  the  last  time  round 
the  class,  that  the  teacher  would  see  the  predica 
ment  I  was  in  and  stop.  But  she  didn't.  Back 
she  came  to  me  with  a  word  and  it  was  ta  corker, 
or  at  least  my  fright  made  it  so.  I  hesitated,  then 
choked  and  fright  had  full  sway.  The  teacher  re 
peated  the  word.  I  feebly  tackled  it  and  missed. 
"  Next,"  cried  the  teacher.  Mr.  Tow-head 
spelled  it  and  quickly  came  the  response  "  Cor 
rect."  How  it  hurt  me!  I  didn't  cry,  but  my 
eyes  were  moist  as  I  stepped  down  next  the  girl. 
I  don't  think  she  was  glad,  but  had  she  been  a 
boy  he  would  have  been.  The  teacher,  seeing 
what  she  had  done,  went  around  a  few  times  more 
to  give  me  a  chance,  but  there  was  no  use,  tow- 
head  never  missed.  The  girl,  Thurza,  and  I  were 
mutual  friends  that  day.  Neither  got  a  credit 
mark.  She  was  a  healthy,  rosy  cheeked  lass,  the 


Snow  Forts — Coasting  327 

first  to  stir  the  cockles  of  my  young  heart,  but 
soon  sickened  and  passed  away.  Mr.  Abbott  died 
a  few  years  later  while  in  college. 

I  wonder  if  the  schools  today  have  great  spell 
ing  contests  between  neighboring  schools,  going 
in  great  sleighloads  of  boys  and  girls.  What  a 
load  of  happiness  as  we  slipped  along.  What 
laughter,  hilarity  and  abandon!  The  pride  of  the 
district  would  bring  in  most  of  the  fathers  and 
mothers,  filling  the  house  to  its  utmost.  How 
eager  and  earnest  they  would  become  as  down 
would  go  their  scholars,  especially  when  a  pet,  one 
they  had  reckoned  on,  slipped.  I  would  like  to 
give  the  story  of  a  few  of  these  contests,  the  pun 
ishment  by  ferrule  on  the  hand,  making  a  boy 
stand  for  an  hour  or  so  in  front  of  the  school,  or 
sit  with  a  girl,  of  the  plots  and  schemes  during 
recess  to  play  rascal  when  we  went  back  into  the 
school  room  to  annoy  the  teacher,  and  even  to  the 
extent  of  throwing  him  out  of  doors,  but  I  have 
taken  too  much  space  on  the  days  of  the  old  Red 
School  House  and  must  pass  on.  I  don't  suppose 
the  scholars  of  today  have  any  troubles  to  speak 
of.  At  least  I  never  hear  of  any.  I  hope  it  is 
not  due  to  a  want  of  health,  vigor  and  life. 

Snow  3fort$^Coa0tin0 

I  wonder  whether  the  boys  today  build  snow 
forts  in  the  school  house  yard.  Probably  there 
are  not  enough  boys  in  any  one  school  to  make 


328  Letters-Essays 


it  a  success.  In  years  agone,  one  or  more  of  these 
could  be  seen  about  every  school  house  in  the 
country  during  the  winter.  When  a  little  thaw 
came  we  rolled  the  snow  into  monstrous  large 
balls,  so  large  that  it  would  take  all  the  boys 
who  could  get  to  it  to  move  it.  How  we  would 
lift  and  push  and  strain  and  laugh!  Very  often 
it  would  get  so  large  we  could  not  move  it  to  the 
place  desired,  when  it  would  have  to  be  aban 
doned.  If  you  do  build  them,  do  the  girls  help 
you?  They  used  to  help  us,  and  a  few  of  them 
were  more  active  and  interested  than  some  of  the 
boys. 

When  built,  do  you  have  mock  battles,  the  boys 
of  one  fort  attacking  and  laying  siege  to  those 
in  another?  Does  the  stronger  side  sometimes 
get  furious,  invade  the  other  fort,  and  destroy  it  ? 
We  used  to  have  some  lively  skirmishes,  a  little 
genuine  fighting,  quite  a  good  deal  of  sniveling, 
some  crying,  and  considerable  "  lofty  talk  "  as 
to  what  would  happen  if  "  he  "  did  that  again. 
But  usually  the  bell  would  ring  before  passion 
got  full  sway,  for  the  recesses  were  short,  and 
into  the  school  room  all  would  go,  hurriedly,  as 
a  happy  solution  of  any  trouble,  often  choking 
the  doorway  in  the  mad  rush,  not  so  much  to  get 
in  as  io  end  the  harsh  talk  and  brewing  quar 
rel.  To  the  door  would  rush  the  teacher,  ferrule 
in  hand.  I  can  see  her  now.  "  You  boys  in  the 
rear,  keep  back,"  she  would  cry.  "  Now  you  get 
up."  "  Let  go  of  his  collar."  "  Do  you  hear?  " 


Snow  Forts — Coasting  329 

"  I  said  let  go."  "  There,  now,  yon  crawl  out," 
and  the  jam  would  be  broken,  all  rushing  to  their 
seats,  both  hands  over  their  mouths,  "  tickled 
most  to  death."  Such  frolic  and  such  fun.  It  is 
a  good  ways  back  to  that  time,  and  then  to  think 
it  cannot  come  again. 

Do  the  boys  today  wear  yarn  mittens  of  vari 
ous  colors,  usually  red,  knit  by  mother,  with  a 
cord  of  the  same  material,  attached  to  each  and 
extending  over  the  back  of  the  neck  so  that  they 
won't  lose  them?  Those  were  what  we  wore 
and  how  we  wore  them.  Carding  and  spinning 
were  then  done  in  many  farm  homes.  I  suppose 
the  boys  today  know  little  of  home-knit  goods, 
but  I  doubt  if  those  they  wear  are  any  warmer. 

But  what  fun  we  had  coasting  and  how  proud 
we  were  of  a  new  sled,  especially  if  it  had  a  bright 
color  or  colors.  Sometimes  a  poor  boy  with  an 
old,  unpainted  sled  could  beat  the  boy  with  the 
gay  sled  for  speed,  making  the  latter  most  un 
happy  indeed !  He  couldn  't  see  why  it  was,  would 
carefully  inspect  them  for  the  cause,  take  his  sled 
home  and  file  the  runners  to  make  them  smooth, 
and  still  the  old  sled  would  beat  him.  Then  he 
would  lay  it  to  longer  runners  or  longer  posts, 
anything  that  the  old  sled  had  which  was  dif 
ferent  from  his.  I  suppose  the  boys  do  a  good 
deal  of  coasting  now,  since  that  is  an  amusement 
which  a  single  boy  can  take  much  pleasure  from, 
though  nothing  like  that  when  there  is  a  large 
number  of  boys  and  girls  with  a  number  of  sleds, 


330  Letters-Essays 


rushing  down  the  hill  one  after  the  other.  We 
used  to  make  up  quite  large  parties  and  go  to 
a  steep  hill  in  the  field  or  on  the  highway  and 
coast  the  whole  evening  long.  The  girl  would 
usually  sit  in  front  and  the  boy  behind,  or,  if  the 
sled  was  long  enough,  lie  on  his  stomach  with 
his  feet  to  the  rear  for  steering  purposes.  How 
often  would  the  sled  suddenly  sheer  to  one  side, 
by  accident  or  otherwise,  usually  otherwise,  over 
turning  the  load,  making  a  great  mixture  of 
laughing  boy  and  girl  and  sled,  all  piled  up  in 
a  heap.  If  the  following  sled  was  too  near  to 
turn  aside,  then  into  the  mass  it  would  go,  and 
there  would  be  a  double  pile-up,  creating  great 
merriment  in  extricating  themselves.  Covered 
with  snow  from  the  boys '  boot  in  steering,  or  mis 
haps,  hurt  now  and  then,  up  and  down  the  hill, 
talking  and  laughing  and  cheering,  till  all  were 
tired  out,  when  the  party  would  break  up,  going 
to  their  several  homes.  Why  is  coasting  such  a 
pleasure  to  the  young?  Why  will  they  trudge 
for  hours  up  a  hill  to  ride  swiftly  down  it?  I 
know  not,  unless  it  be  the  excitement  due  to  the 
slight  danger  of  a  mishap,  attendant  upon  swift 
riding,  or  to  the  reason  that  they  think  they  are 
getting  a  ride  for  nothing. 

The  vehicle  we  often  used  in  years  agone  and 
out  of  which  we  got  more  excitement  and  more 
fun  than  the  sled,  was  what,  as  I  remember,  we 
called  a  "  jumper."  It  was  a  very  simple  affair, 
consisting  only  of  a  hard  wood  barrel  stave  with 


Doing  Chores — Riding  Steers  331 

a  ten-inch  post  nailed  to  the  inner  side,  well  to 
wards  one  end  of  the  stave,  with  a  board  across 
the  top  of  the  post  for  a  seat.  That  was  all  {here 
was  of  it.  No  trick  at  all  to  build  it,  though  it 
was  sometimes  troublesome  to  get  a  good  stave. 
After  a  little  use,  and  worn  smooth,  how  "  like 
the  wind  "  they  would  go.  It  was  quite  a  trick 
to  keep  one's  balance  and  a  really  delicate  trick 
to  steer  them,  as  one  can  readily  see.  In  fact, 
there  was  not  much  steering  done.  The  slight 
est  overtouch  to  the  crust  or  track  for  that  pur 
pose  was  sure  to  separate  the  boy  from  his  jumper 
and  to  throw  him  rolling  down  the  hill.  The 
jumper  worked  the  best  when  there  was  a  great 
crust  on  the  snow.  Then  we  would  go  to  a  great 
hill  in  the  field  where  there  was  freedom  for  the 
"  sled  "  to  go  where  it  pleased.  If  there  was  a 
ridge  in  the  side  hill  or  a  buried  stone  making 
a  great  jumping-off  place,  how  into  the  air  we 
would  go  as  we  went  over  these  places,  seldom 
lighting  right  side  up  on  the  jumper,  when  we 
struck  the  crust  again.  That  was  the  trick  we 
aimed  to  do.  They  were  tottlish  and  uncertain, 
but  speedy.  The  girls  seldom  tried  them.  I  won 
der  do  the  boys  ever  use  them  now.  I  have  not 
seen  or  heard  of  one  in  years. 

H)oin$  Cbores^lRibtn^  Steers 

I  wonder  if  the  boys  today  have  to  do  chores  in 
the  morning,   during  the  noon   hour  and   after 


332  Letters-Essays 


school.  Most  of  them  did  fifty  years  ago.  And 
out  of  this  we  had  lots  of  fun,  stealing  moments 
to  ride  the  colts  and  even  the  steers.  The  latter 
was  often  more  exciting  than  riding  the  colts  as 
round  the  yard  they  would  go.  The  danger  of  fall 
ing  forward  onto  their  horns  I  suppose  intensified 
the  interest.  One  day  my  brother,  the  boldest  one 
of  all  the  boys,  did  fall  forward  and  was  caught  in 
his  clothing  by  the  horns  of  the  steer,  lying  hori 
zontally  across  the  steer 's  face,  blinding  him,  or 
nearly  so.  How  the  steer  did  run  from  yard  to 
yard !  A  pack  of  boys  had  gone  home  with  us  to 
do  the  noon  chores  quickly,  so  we  would  have  a 
little  time  for  sport.  They  all  followed  the  steer 
shouting  and  hollering,  frightening  the  steer  still 
more,  and  calling  out  to  my  brother  to  fall  off.  As 
if  he  could.  He  was  scared  nearly  to  death  and 
crying  like  a  good  fellow.  All  we  could  do  was 
to  follow.  No  one  dared  to  get  in  front  of  the 
steer,  since  he  being  blinded  in  a  front  view  was 
quite  liable  to  run  over  and  trample  us.  Against 
the  side  of  the  barn  the  steer  would  go,  head  on, 
but,  fortunately,  the  horns  stood  out  well  forward 
and  protected  the  boy.  Then  the  steer  would  turn 
and  take  another  course  and  away  he  would  go. 
But  he  was  getting  tired.  Presently  the  cloth 
ing  on  one  horn  gave  out,  and  brother  took  a 
perpendicular  position  hanging  by  one  horn,  but, 
fortunately,  with  his  head  upright.  After  a  lit 
tle  his  clothing,  which  was  caught  by  one  horn 
and  held  his  entire  weight,  gave  way  and  he  was 


Praying  for  a  Rainy  Sunday  333 

free.  We  ran  to  him  and  anxiously  inquired  after 
and  looked  him  over.  His  clothing  was  in  bad 
shape,  but  aside  from  many  bruises  he  was  not 
badly  hurt.  We  finished  the  chores  at  once  and 
went  back  to  school,  all  but  brother.  Mother  had 
to  patch  him  up.  We  didn  Jt  ride  steers  any  more. 
No  one  wanted  to.  After  this  we  were  content 
with  colts.  I  wonder  if  the  boys  today  ever  ride 
steers. 


for  a  IRatns 

When  I  was  a  boy,  half  a  century  ago,  we  lived 
a  few  miles  from  the  village  church.  Mother 
dearly  loved  to  go  to  church  and  father,  as  it 
seemed  to  us,  didn't  care  whether  he  did  or 
not,  but  went  quite  often  to  please  mother.  Her 
main  object,  I  now  think,  was  to  get  her  two 
boys  into  the  atmosphere  of  the  church,  that  they 
might  be  softened  a  little  and  helped.  She  surely 
did  not  need  any  preaching  herself.  A  more  de 
mure,  quiet  and  deeply  religious  person  did  not 
live.  Just  the  same,  we  boys  did  not  like  to  go, 
especially  in  the  summer  time.  We  liked  mother 
and  it  pained  us  to  show  our  displeasure,  but  what 
could  we  do?  We  wanted  to  romp,  be  stirring, 
looking  for  something  to  interest  and  amuse  our 
selves.  If  we  went,  then  we  had  to  stay  up 
wards  of  an  hour  longer  in  the  Sunday  school, 
and  that  we  dreaded  most  of  all.  That  was  a  tax 
indeed.  I  wonder  if  the  farmer  boys  now  drive 


334  Letters-Essays 


some  miles  to  church  and  Sunday  school,    and 
whether  they  like  to  go? 

Most  every  Saturday  night,  and  I  guess  every 
one  in  the  spring,  summer  and  fall,  my  brother 
and  I,  on  going  to  bed,  would  turn  to  a  discussion 
of  the  weather  on  the  morrow.  Each  would  give 
and  make  the  best  points  he  could  that  it  would 
rain  or  severely  threaten  to.  That  was  just  what 
we  wanted,  and  our  argument,  like  that  of  many 
older  people,  was  simply  the  product  of  our 
wish.  We  often  and  many  times  really  prayed 
that  it  would  rain  or,  if  God  could  not  grant  this, 
that  He  would  make  it  look  as  if  it  surely  were 
going  to  do  so.  And  with  this  on  our  lips  we 
would  go  off  to  sleep,  the  pure  and  sweet  sleep 
of  childhood,  blessed  rest.  On  awakening  our 
first  thought  was  to  rush  out  of  doors  and  take 
a  look  at  the  heavens.  If  bright  and  clear  my 
brother  would  say:  "  God  didn't  hear  you  last 
night,  I  knew  you  were  not  talking  loud  enough. ' ' 
And  I  would  reply,  that  He  didn't  hear  him 
either.  Feeling  a  little  blue,  we  would  proceed 
to  the  barnyard  to  our  milking,  and  a  little  later, 
dressed  up  some,  go  to  church. 

painting  tbe  IRooster 

One  Sunday  morning  I  well  remember.  It  did 
not  rain,  but  it  looked  very  much  as  if  it  might. 
Those  were  the  ones  we  liked,  especially  if  it 
cleared  away  after  it  was  too  late  to  go.  It  did 


PAINTING  THE  ROOSTER 


WASHING   BOY'S   FEET 


Painting  the  Rooster  335 

this  day  and  we  began  to  grow  restless  to  do 
something.  Mother  had  to  keep  busy  till  ten 
or  eleven  to  clear  np  her  morning's  work.  Father 
would  not  disturb  us  we  knew.  He  was  as  full 
of  fun  as  we,  and  enjoyed  it  as  much.  Out  in  the 
yard  my  brother  said: 

"  What  can  we  do?  " 

"  0,"  I  replied,  "  I  don't  know.  We  must  not 
make  any  noise  for  it  is  Sunday. ' ' 

11  I'll  tell  you,"  he  said,  after  thinking  a  little, 
* '  what  we  can  do.  That  big  white  rooster  is  boss 
of  the  red  one  and  he  has  strutted  around  here 
and  been  boss  long  enough." 

* '  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it ;  he  is  the 
best  fighter  and  how  can  you  help  it?  "  in 
quired  I. 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  he  replied,  "  I  have  a 
plan  whereby  the  red  rooster  can  be  boss  for 
awhile.  It  is  too  bad  he  has  to  go  round  alone 
all  the  time.  No  hen  will  go  near  him,  and  if 
one  should,  the  white  rooster  gets  mad  about  it 
and  chases  him  away.  He  is  a  hog,  that's  what 
he  is,  and  I  would  like  to  see  the  red  one  boss  for 
a  time." 

"  All  right,  I  would  too.  It  ain't  fair,  but  how 
are  you  going  to  change  it?  "  I  inquired. 

"  We  can  do  it  easy  enough." 

"  Well,  how  is  it?  " 

"  Get  them  to  fighting." 

11  That  can't  be  done.  The  red  one  is  afraid 
of  him." 


336  Letters-Essays 


11  Yes,  it  can." 

"  How?  " 

"  We  will  catch  the  white  one  and  then  take 
that  stick  of  red  chalk  in  the  shop  and  paint  him 
red.  The  red  rooster  won't  know  him  and  will 
pitch  into  him  for  a  fight. '  * 

"  But  he  will  get  licked  if  he  does." 

"  He  is  much  larger  than  when  the  white  one 
whipped  him  and  may  be  he  can  whip  him  now. 
If  we  see  he  is  going  to  get  whipped  I'll  help  the 
red  one." 

"  How  <?an  you  do  that?  " 

"  Why,  I'll  take  the  white  one  by  the  legs  and 
let  the  red  one  peck  him  till  he  has  got  enough. ' ' 

The  plan  when  fully  presented  seemed  feasible. 
It  would  afford  amusement  any  way.  We  both 
agreed  that  it  was  only  a  fair  thing  to  do. 
Slowly,  for  it  was  Sunday,  we  started  out  to  find 
the  white  rooster.  Spying  him  at  last  back  of 
the  barn,  we  decided  that  the  best  way  to  catch 
him  would  be  to  drive  him  through  a  door  which 
happened  to  be  open  into  the  barn.  This  we 
cautiously  for  some  time  tried  to  do,  but  he 
seemed  determined  not  to  go  in  and  he  didn't. 
We  rushed  him  at  last,  but  he  dodged  us  with 
a  great  flutter.  Then  we  decided  that  the  only 
way  was  to  run  him  down.  Our  legs  were  longer 
than  his.  We  could  tire  him  out  if  nothing  more. 
Accordingly,  after  him  we  went  and  we  kept  it 
up  for  some  time.  Our  greatest  fear  was  that 
he  would  get  into  the  front  dooryard,  when  the 


Painting  the  Rooster  337 

"  jig  would  be  up,"  but  we  succeeded  in  head 
ing  him  off  every  time.  After  a  half -hour  he  was 
getting  tired,  and  so  were  we.  Father  had  just 
built  the  under  pinning  wall,  six  feet  or  more 
in  height,  for  a  hog  barn.  No  building  had  as 
yet  been  put  on.  There  was  no  opening  in  the 
wall  except  on  the  back  side  a  doorway  down 
to  the  ground.  As  luck  would  have  it,  the  tired 
rooster  went  in  this  doorway  and  then  we  saw 
we  had  him.  He  was  too  tired  to  fly  over  even 
a  six-foot  wall.  Beaching  the  door,  I  held  it 
while  my  brother  went  in  and  captured  him  with 
out  much  difficulty.  Then  I  went  and  got  the 
chalk.  Returning,  I  plied  it  to  his  great  white 
neck  and  his  breast,  but  it  slipped  over  it,  leav 
ing  but  very  little  stain.  We  were  in  a  dilemma. 
But  my  brother  was  equal  to  it. 

"  Let  me  get  him  so  he  can't  get  away,  and 
then  I  will  spit  on  him  and  the  chalk  will  paint 
him  all  right." 

He  did,  and  it  went  much  better.  He  was 
fluttering  all  the  time,  but  we  soon  got  him 
pretty  well  painted.  My  brother  was  sitting  on 
the  edge  of  a  trough  facing  the  doorway.  My 
back  was  to  it.  I  was  sitting  on  my  feet.  All  at 
once  the  rooster  seemed  to  make  an  extra  strug 
gle  and  away  he  went. 

"  What  did  you  let  him  go  for?  "  I  asked. 
"  He  is  not  done  enough." 

There  was  no  response,  but  there  was  a  sad  and 
solemn  face,  with  head  hanging  low.  I  knew 


338  Letters-Essays 


something  was  up,  though  not  a  voice  nor  any 
noise  had  I  heard.  Rising,  there  stood  mother  in 
the  doorway,  with  a  sad  and  disconsolate  face. 
She  had  the  little  book  '  *  bound  in  black  ' '  in  her 
hand. 

"  My  boys,  my  boys!  Don't  you  know  it  is 
Sunday  and  that  what  you  have  been  doing  is 
wicked?  Come  and  sit  down  with  me.  I  want  to 
talk  with  you." 

We  took  a  seat  on  the  trough  on  either  side 
with  the  near  arm  in  her  lap,  and  listened  to  her 
quiet,  easy  and  earnest  pleading  to  be  good  boys 
and  not  to  be  naughty.  We  thought  it  wasn't, 
that  it  was  just  play  and  fun,  but  she  insisted 
that  it  was,  done  on  Sunday.  Then  she  read  a 
chapter  or  two  from  the  "  little  book  bound  in 
black,"  and  explained  it  to  us  as  she  went  along. 
It  was  good,  of  course,  though  I  cannot  recall 
the  chapters  or  the  teaching  they  expressed.  I 
wish  I  could.  I  would  read  them  again.  We 
were  then  too  full  of  spirit,  life  and,  shall  I  say, 
mild  deviltry,  to  have  them  impress  us,  saying 
nothing  of  restraining  us.  She  remained  with 
us  a  long  time,  quietly  teaching  and  pleading,  and 
until  we  began  to  get  physically  restless  and  un 
easy  to  be  moving  and  doing  something.  The 
great  restraint  on  such  spirits  drives  them  mad, 
or  at  least,  into  recklessness.  She  plead  with  us 
to  go  in  the  house  with  her,  but  that  to  us  was 
terrible.  Then  she  begged  of  us  not  to  play  any 
more,  to  let  the  rooster  alone.  We  finally  prom- 


Painting  the  Rooster  339 

ised  we  would  not  finish  chalking  the  rooster, 
and  she  softly  and  slowly  took  her  way  into  the 
house.  After  she  had  been  gone  some  moments 
my  brother  had  me  boost  him  up  that  he  might  see 
over  the  wall  and  whether  she  had  gone  into 
the  house.  She  was  just  entering  as  we  did  this. 

We  walked  about  the  enclosure  a  little  >and 
then  out  into  the  open.  Presently  my  brother 
asked: 

"  How  red  did  we  get  him?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  quite  a  good  deal  on  the 
breast. ' ' 

"  Do  you  think  the  red  rooster  will  know 
him?  " 

"  I  hardly  think  he  will." 

"  If  he  doesn't  they  will  fight." 

"  What  is  the  wrong  in  going  round  to  see  if 
they  have  got  together?  " 

"  I  don't  see  as  there  is  any." 

'  *  Nor  do  I.  If  they  are  fighting,  they  are,  our 
going  don't  make  them  fight." 

Accordingly  we  strolled  round  the  barn,  slowly 
and  as  if  on  no  errand,  whistling  and  throwing 
sticks  as  we  went,  but  there  was  no  rooster  there. 
On  we  went  in  the  same  way  up  and  into  the  big 
yard,  where  sure  enough  he  was.  The  red  rooster 
not  knowing  him,  had  sailed  in  for  a  fight.  They 
evidently  had  just  begun  and  were  going  it  with 
a  vengeance. 

We  stood  and  watched  them  for  a  while  and 
then  got  a  stick  to  whittle,  found  a  sunny  place 


340  Letters-Essays 


where  we  could  sit  down  with  our  backs  against 
the  barn.  Settled  in  our  seats,  my  brother  said: 

"  This  can't  be  wicked,  to  sit  here  in  the  sun 
shine  and  whittle  and  visit.  If  we  hadn't  come 
or  should  go  away  they  would  keep  on  fighting." 

"  I  don't  either.  We  are  not  making  them 
fight.  They  were  fighting  when  we  came. ' ' 

"  Which  do  you  think  is  going  to  win?  The 
white  one  jumps  the  highest." 

"  He  seems  to  be  braver  and  pluckier,  too." 

"  I  wish  the  red  one  could  beat." 

' '  See  him  turn.    He  is  going  to  quit. ' ' 

* '  No,  see,  he  has  come  back  again. ' ' 

"  But  he  is  cowardly  about  it." 

"  Well,  he  can't  find  any  fault  with  us.  We 
gave  him  a  chance." 

"  There  he  goes,  tail  down,  and  the  white  one 
after  him." 

"  He  has  given  up.    He  won't  turn  again." 

The  white  one  was  still  boss  and  the  red  one 
continued  to  scratch  and  cluck,  but  no  hen  came 
to  eat  the  grub  he  found. 

Was  that  wicked  for  lads  so  full  of  life  that 
they  had  to  do  something  or  go  verily  mad? 
Don't  the  boys  now-a-days  get  up  a  fight  with  the 
neighbor's  rooster,  or  watch  a  good  fight  between 
their  own?  Or  have  they  become  so  good  that 
when  their  own  roosters  get  to  fighting  they  go 
and  stop  them? 


Chapped  Feet  341 


Cbappefc  jfeet 

I  wonder  when  the  boys  now  lay  aside  their 
boots,  or  rather  shoes,  in  the  spring.  Do  they  do 
it  just  as  soon  as  they  can  stand  the  cold  ground? 
We  did  fifty  years  ago,  and  I  am  sure  as  early 
as  the  fifteenth  or  twentieth  of  May,  depending 
on  the  season.  Is  it  not  just  fun  to  get  your  feet 
on  the  earth  again?  How  the  toes  dig  into  the 
ground  and  help  to  run.  How  nimble  of  foot  one 
feels,  and  how  much  faster  one  can  run  ?  How  we 
hated  boots.  We  shook  them  as  soon  as  we  pos 
sibly  could,  and  didn't  put  them  on  in  the  fall 
till  father  or  mother  made  us — till  after  there  had 
been  several  frosts. 

Do  your  feet  get  grimy  with  dirt,  and  don't 
those  of  some  of  you  greatly  chap  and  crack  and 
even  bleed!  Ours  did  half  a  century  ago,  but 
still  we  would  not  put  on  boots.  We  preferred 
to  go  barefoot,  even  though  we  had  sore  feet. 
When  the  day's  play  and  work  are  over  and  you 
have  gone  into  the  house  preparatory  for  the 
night,  does  not  mother  call  to  you  from  the  wash 
room?  Don't  you  know  what  it  means,  and  do 
you  reply?  Doesn't  she  call  you  a  second  and 
a  third  time?  And  then  don't  you  hear  father's 
strong  and  stern  voice: 

"  Boys,  you  go  to  your  mother,  and  no  more 
fuss." 

Then  don't  you  start,  twisting  and  half  snarl 
ing,  and  doesn't  father  say: 

"  Stop  that,  don't  let  me  hear  any  more  of  it?  " 


342  Letters-Essays 


And  when  you  reach  the  wash  room  are  there 
not,  according  to  the  number  of  boys,  one  or  two 
bowls  on  the  floor,  filled  with  warm  water,  and 
doesn't  mother  ask  you  to  stand  in  them  and  let 
your  feet  soak  for  a  time?  When  they  have, 
doesn't  she  give  you  a  chair  to  sit  in,  and  doesn't 
she,  out  of  her  heart,  after  a  day's  hard  toil,  sit 
down  on  her  feet,  and,  taking  one  foot  at  a  time, 
begin  to  wash  them,  talking  pleasantly  the  while  f 
And  when  she  applies  some  home  made  soap, 
don't  you  jerk  and  twitch  your  foot  and  half  cry 
and  talk  naughty?  Doesn't  the  sudden  jerking 
of  your  foot  often  cause  her  to  fall  over?  And 
does  she  not  right  herself  and  just  as  pleasantly 
proceed  with  the  work,  pleading  with  you  to  be 
quiet,  that  she  is  doing  it  for  your  good?  And 
doesn't  she  get  almost  worn  out  with  your 
naughtiness,  especially  when  there  are  four  such 
trials,  four  feet  to  wash?  When  they  are  finally 
washed  and  she  puts  on,  if  chapped,  a  solution 
of  reduced  vinegar,  don't  you  fairly  jump  and 
dance  and  cry  out,  and  then  don't  you  hear 
father's  stern  voice: 

"  Stop  that.  Let  me  hear  another  word  and 
I  will  go  out  there?  " 

When  the  vinegar  has  seared  the  wounds  a  lit 
tle,  does  she  not  gently  smear  the  foot  with  cream 
and  softly  rub  it  in?  That  is  what  they  did  long 
ago.  Perhaps  the  mothers  of  today  have  pleas- 
anter  remedies,  and  perhaps  the  farm  boys  don't 
go  barefoot.  I  don't  know. 


Chapped  Feet  343 


Think  of  the  toil  and  sacrifice  of  a  mother  with 
three,  or  two,  or  even  one  boy,  doing  this  every 
night  all  summer  after  a  full  day's  labor.  There 
were  a  few  mothers  years  ago  who  did  not  do  it, 
I  remember,  and  their  son's  feet  were  verily  black 
with  dirt,  but  there  were  only  a  few  of  this  class. 

You  boys  of  today,  when  you  are  older,  as  I 
am,  will  be  ashamed  of  your  naughtiness  to 
mother,  revere  her  memory  and  wish  she  could 
come  back,  that  you  could  apologize  and  tell  her 
how  dearly  you  love  her.  Be  good  to  her  now,  and 
then  you  will  not  have  that  to  regret  in  after  life. 
As  you  pass  out  of  boyhood  you  will  not  again 
receive  in  this  life  such  tireless  care,  such  un 
selfish  devotion,  such  a  boundless  love,  limited 
only  by  her  strength. 

I  make  no  apology  for  closing  what  I  have  here 
said  with  the  beautiful  poem  by  Whittier  on  The 
Barefoot  Boy: 

Blessings  on  thee,  little  man, 
Barefoot  boy,  with  cheek  of  tan! 
With  thy  turned-up  pantaloons, 
And  thy  merry  whistled  tunes; 
With  thy  red  lip,  redder  still 
Kissed  by  strawberries  on  the  hill; 
With  the  sunshine  on  thy  face, 
Through  thy  torn  brim's  jaunty  grace; 
From  my  heart  I  give  thee  joy, 
I  was  once  a  barefoot  boy! 
Prince  thou  art, — the  grown-up  man 
Only  is  republican. 
Let  the  million  dollared  ride! 
Barefoot,  trudging  at  his  side, 
Thou  hast  more  than  he  can  buy 
In  the  reach  of  ear  and  eye, — 
Outward  sunshine,  inward  joy; 
Blessings  on  thee,  barefoot  boy! 


344  Letters-Essays 


<§>R>  Swimming  Ibole 

I  wonder  if  the  boys  go  in  swimming  as  much 
as  they  did  years  ago  and  have  as  much  fun  in 
doing  it!  Are  there  enough  boys  *of  you  now  to 
build  a  dam  in  the  meadow  brook?  Years  ago  a 
lot  of  us  would  meet  on  an  agreed  upon  evening 
at  a  certain  point  in  the  brook  to  build  a  dam. 
Each  boy  would  agree  to  bring  a  board  or  plank 
for  the  purpose.  Some  would  undress  and  get 
in  the  brook  to  hold  stakes  and  planks  in  place, 
to  press  the  sod  thrown  to  them  by  the  others 
in  the  proper  places.  Others  would  be  scouring 
the  fields  for  grass,  stone  and  brush,  anything  to 
make  it  tight.  What  life  and  enthusiasm!  As 
the  water  rises,  doesn't  it,  all  at  once,  sometimes 
break  around  the  end  of  the  dam  in  the  soft  bank 
and  wash  it  away  surprisingly  fast  ?  And  doesn  't 
it  sometimes  take  your  dam,  too,  when  the  end 
stakes  give  way?  Don't  you  gather  about,  slap 
your  legs  and  laugh,  to  see  the  rushing  torrent? 
When  the  pond  is  all  gone,  doesn't  it  suddenly 
occur  to  you  that  it  would  be  well  to  rush  down 
the  brook  and  save  your  plank?  When  you  get 
back  with  them,  don't  you  begin  to  think,  to 
reason  a  little  on  the  power  of  the  water  dammed, 
and  to  use  some  judgment  in  the  selection  of  the 
next  site?  That  is  the  first  step  in  engineering. 
We  often  had  to  build  several  before  we  got  one 
that  would  stand,  and,  I  suppose,  you  do,  if  you 
are  swimming  boys. 

How  early,  I  wonder,  do  the  boys  of  today  be- 


Little  Deviltries  345 

gin  to  go  in  swimming?  Years  ago  we  did  in 
May,  for  I  well  remember  a  couplet  my  grand 
mother,  who  happened  to  be  at  home  one  evening 
as  we  were  starting  off  for  the  swimming  hole, 
repeated  to  us: 

"Boys  who  go  swimming  in  May, 
Will  soon  lay  in  clay." 

We  impatiently  waited  to  hear  her  as  she  re 
quested,  but  as  soon  as  said,  we  bounded  off  on 
the  run,  over  the  fences,  across  lots*,  disrobing  as 
we  neared  the  brook,  that  not  a  moment  should 
be  lost.  Wasn't  it  sport  as  we  swam,  splashing 
the  water,  getting  on  to  and  sinking  one  another, 
throwing  balls  of  mud  against  those  who  were 
quitting  and  on  the  bank  to  dress,  making  them 
come  back  in  to  wash,  diving  from  the  bank,  and 
chasing  one  another  up  and  down  the  stream. 
Glorious  times,  those. 

Uittle  Be\>iltrte0 

There  were  a  good  many  little  deviltries  at 
our  home  and  in  the  neighborhood,  I  must  admit 
in  those  distant  years.  I  guess  there  were  more 
than  there  are  now.  I  like  to  think  so,  at  any 
rate.  Indeed,  I  do  think  that  all  the  while  we 
are  growing  more  gentle,  more  kind  and  more 
loving.  Our  house,  for  some  reason,  seemed  to 
be  the  gathering  place  for  the  boys  of  the  neigh 
borhood.  When  father  and  mother  would  drive 
away,  we  would  lustily  call  to  the  boy  in  the  next 


346  Letters-Essays 


house,  and  lie  to  the  next  and  so  on.  Pretty  soon 
the  road  would  be  full  of  boys,  on  the  run,  to 
our  place,  where  play,  fun  and  some  mischievous- 
ness  would  begin.  Therefore,  my  brother  and  I 
should  not  be  charged  with  it  all,  by  any  means. 
I  cannot  recall  a  hundredth  part  of  the  games 
and  "  deviltries  "  that  were  perpetrated,  and  it 
would  not  be  worth  while  if  I  could,  since  they 
were  the  same  as  those  done  by  other  boys  in 
those  days,  and  probably  more  or  less  in  these. 

The  first  real  deviltry  that  I  recall  was  when 
my  brother  and  I  were  four  and  five  years  past, 
respectively.  Our  father  and  mother  had  gone 
to  Vermont  and  we  were  in  the  hands  of  Betsey 
Conner,  the  hired  girl.  Out  in  the  road  to  play, 
my  brother  caught  a  frog.  Holding  it  in  his 
hands,  he  said  to  me:  **  If  you  will  take  the  cover 
off  the  tea  kettle,  I  will  put  the  frog  in  the  ket 
tle  and  scare  Betsey."  It  struck  me  as  a  fine 
proposition  and  I  readily  assented.  Betsey  was 
then  preparing  a  meal.  We  slid  into  the  kitchen, 
and  as  Betsey  stepped  out,  I  lifted  the  cover  and 
he  dropped  in  the  frog.  We  had  some  square 
blocks  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  with  which  we 
began  to  interest  ourselves,  that  we  might  wit 
ness  the  developments  a  little  later. 

It  was  not  long  when  Betsey  rushed  up  to  the 
tea  kettle,  with  the  tea  pot  in  one  hand,  stooping 
over 'and  taking  hold  of  the  tea  kettle  bail  with 
the  other,  she  tipped  it  up  to  fill  the  pot.  As  she 
did  so  she  screamed  out  loudly,  backed  up  a  lit- 


Boy  Inside  a  Barrel  347 

tie,  sat  down  heavily  on  the  floor,  dropped  her 
tea  pot,  and  pulled  the  kettle  off  the  stove  on  to 
the  floor.  We  saw  at  once  that  we  had  overdone 
it,  and  that  there  was  a  "  hot  time  "  coming  for 
us.  We  were  so  frightened  that  guilt  plainly 
showed  in  our  faces,  and  so  plainly  that  Betsey 
got  up  and  went  at  us  without  any  ceremony.  We 
had  no  trial  of  our  guilt.  She  cuffed  and  spanked 
us  most  vigorously,  and  until  there  was  a  great 
mixture  of  blocks  and  lustily  yelling  boys. 
Whether  the  frog  came  clear  out  of  the  nose  of 
the  tea  kettle  or  only  stuck  a  leg  out  we  never 
learned.  We  were  too  much  disturbed  to  find  out, 
and  Betsey  would  not  have  told  us  bad  we  in 
quired.  We  told  father  when  he  returned,  what 
a  whipping  we  had  received,  and  instead  of  sym 
pathy,  came  near  getting  another.  Like  many 
others,  this  piece  of  deviltry  was  never  repeated. 

Bos  Unsifce  a  Barrel 

I  vividly  recall  the  trick  or  game  of  rolling  a 
barrel  with  a  boy  in  it.  Our  yard  was  full  of 
boys  that  day.  Some  one  suggested  the  trick.  A 
barrel  was  got,  open  at  one  end,  and  stood  upright 
near  us.  The  boys  formed  a  circle  and  I  repeated 
a  sing-song  jargon  we  always  used  to  determine 
the  one  who  should  first  do  the  trick.  I  am  in 
debted  to  my  sister,  Alice,  for  the  one  we  used. 
She  alone  has  held  it  in  her  memory  all  these 
years.  It  was  as  follows:  "  Query,  Lowery, 


348  Letters-Essays 


Tickery,  Tee,  Hillibone,  Crackabone,  Temb&ree, 
Queever,  Quaver,  English  Naver,  Stringlum, 
Stranglum,  Buck."  The  boy  on  whom  the  word 
Buck  fell  was  elected.  The  boys  everywhere  had, 
and  I  hear  still  have,  a  jargon  similar  to  this, 
though  hardly  any  two  localities  have  the  same. 
The  boy  determined,  it  was  all  hustle  and  bustle 
to  perform  the  act.  The  unfortunate  chap  hap 
pened  to  be  my  brother.  He  was  laid  across  the 
open  end  of  the  barrel.  Some  one  laid  his  hand 
across  his  hips  and  with  great  jollity  cried  out: 
"  Double  up,"  and  he  dropped  into  the  barrel, 
out  of  view,  like  a  closed  jack  knife.  Instantly 
the  barrel  was  laid  on  its  side,  given  a  kick  and 
away  it  went  down  a  gentle  decline,  across  the 
door  yard  and  into  the  field,  an  entire  distance 
of  some  ten  rods  or  more.  All  the  other  boys  on 
the  run  kept  up  with  the  barrel,  and  when  it  came 
slowly  to  a  stop,  eagerly  peeked  into  it  to  see 
how  brother  enjoyed  it.  He  was  as  limp  as  a  rag, 
pale  as  a  ghost,  had  nothing  to  say  to  the  jeering 
boys  outside,  and  the  barrel  was  lined  with  his 
dinner.  It  didn't  look  at  all  as  if  he  had  had  <a 
good  time.  It  was  very  plain  that  he  was  sick. 
He  made  no  move  to  get  out,  and  so  we  pulled 
the  barrel  from  him.  He  lay  on  the  grass  for  a 
few  minutes  when,  on  getting  fresh  air,  he  sat 
up,  soon  stood  up  and  then  began  telling  us  how 
fine  and  lovely  it  was,  that  it  was  the  greatest 
ride  he  ever  took.  All  seemed  to  doubt  it,  smeared 
as  he  was,  and  to  think  that  his  pretty  talk  was 


Feeding  Corn  to  Hens  349 

to  get  one  of  us  to  try  it.  No  one  seemed  inclined, 
all  shook  their  heads  and  pretty  soon  took  up 
some  other  game.  That  was  another  item  of  play 
that  was  never  repeated. 


3feeMn<j  Corn  £o  f>ene 

One  day  some  neighbor's  boys  were  with  us, 
when  some  one  suggested  making  a  hole  through 
a  few  kernels  of  corn  and  tying  the  long  hair  of 
a  horse's  tail  to  them,  and  feeding  them  to  the 
hens.  No  sooner  was  it  suggested  than  the  corn 
and  hair  were  got,  properly  tied,  thrown  on  the 
ground  and  some  hens  quietly  driven  to  the  spot. 
Spying  the  corn,  they  swallowed  it  suddenly.  As 
soon  as  they  had  done  so  they  began  to  sneeze 
and  back  up.  We  boys  fell  to  laughing  at  a  great 
rate,  lay  down  on  the  grass  and  rolled  and 
laughed  at  their  antics.  They  kept  up  their  strug 
gles,  scratching  their  throats  with  their  toes, 
sneezing  and  coughing,  till  they  got  so  tired  they 
would  sit  down  and  tumble  over,  and  then  we 
would  laugh  some  more.  Getting  tired  of  it  after 
a  while,  we  stepped  on  the  horse  hair  and  re 
lieved  them  of  their  trouble. 

It  was  not  only  naughty  and  wrong  to  do  this, 
but  actually  cruel.  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  tell 
it,  and  would  not  were  I  not  trying  to  tell  a  truth 
ful  story  of  boyhood  life  long  ago.  I  hope  it  is 
better  now,  and  that  no  such  things  are  done. 


350  Letters-assays 


Cutting  ©ft  Goes 

When  my  brother  and  I  were  five  and  six,  or 
six  and  seven  past,  I  can  not  tell  which,  our  play 
ing  was  carried  one  morning  to  the  extreme. 
Father  had  drawn  some  long,  heavy  logs  into 
the  door  yard  to  be  hewn  for  the  building  of  a 
barn.  They  were  up  on  low  skids.  It  was  Mon 
day  morning  and  father  had  just  started  for  Can 
ton  as  a  juror.  I  began  to  run  backward  and 
forward  on  the  front  log  to  the  house,  when  my 
brother  appeared  with  an  axe  and  began  to  chop, 
or  probably  I  should  say,  chip,  in  about  the  mid 
dle  of  the  log.  He  objected  to  my  running  on 
the  log  and  insisted  on  my  taking  another,  but  I 
refused,  saying  it  was  my  log,  that  I  took  it  be 
fore  he  did.  But  he  was  obstinate,  held  his 
ground  and  kept  pecking  at  the  log.  I  got  by 
him  several  times  without  much  trouble,  though 
he  was  threatening  to  cut  my  foot  if  I  did  not 
stop.  On  my  last  trip  he  called  to  me  as  I  ap 
proached  to  stop,  held  the  axe  aloft  and  threat 
ened  to  cut  my  foot  if  I  went  by.  I  thought  I 
could  pass  before  he  could  strike.  Balancing 
myself  on  my  right  foot  and  holding  the  left  up, 
watching  him,  ready  to  spring  by  when  I  thought 
the  moment  opportune,  I  made  a  spring,  but  his 
axe  caught  my  left  foot,  just  back  of  the  toes, 
and  nearly  severed  them.  Then  there  was  wail 
ing  and  crying  in  dead  earnest.  This  was  play, 
different  from  anything  we  had  ever  had.  There 
was  great  pain  this  time,  and  much  blood. 


HI  Cutting  Off  Toes  351 

Mother  came  rushing  out,  calm  as  ever,  but  heroic 
in  the  extreme.  She  had  things  moving  at  once. 
The  hired  man  was  sent  for  a  doctor,  my  brother 
sent  to  get  Judge  Sanford,  and  soon  many  neigh 
bors  had  gathered.  When  grandfather  came  and 
learned  all  the  facts,  he  took  it  upon  himself,  in 
the  absence  of  father,  to  whip  brother  soundly. 
I  could  hear  him  yell  outside  and  didn't  much 
care. 

In  an  hour  or  so  Dr.  Sprague  came.  They  put 
me  in  a  high  chair,  with  grandfather  holding  my 
shoulders.  The  hired  man,  a  big  burly  fellow, 
held  my  left  leg,  while  mother  looked  after  the 
other,  pouring  out  her  pleading  and  sympathy  all 
the  while. 

The  doctor  had  a  great  bent  needle  of  silver  or 
silver  plated,  which  he  pushed  up  through  the 
skin,  near  the  edge  of  the  wound.  How  it  did  raise 
up  the  skin  before  it  would  go  through  and  how 
I  did  struggle  and  yell!  It  took  them  all  to  hold 
me,  boy  that  I  was.  In  the  midst  of  it,  for  a 
change,  the  big  hired  man  went  over  on  his  back 
on  the  floor,  white  as  a  sheet.  Mother  ran  and 
soon  returned  with  a  dish  of  water,  which  she 
dashed  into  his  face.  At  first  I  thought  he  was 
dead,  but  he  soon  began  to  revive.  When  he  had, 
sufficiently,  they  resumed  operations  on  me. 

That  was  the  saddest  experience  in  my  boyhood 
or  in  our  neighborhood.  Perhaps  I  should  not 
here  tell  it,  I  don't  know.  I  am  giving  boyhood 
life  fifty  years  ago,  and  should  I  not  tell  its  bad 


352  Letters-Essays 


side  as  well  as  its  pleasant?  Otherwise  we  cannot 
measure  up  the  conduct  of  the  boys  of  that  day 
and  this.  We  are  growing  better,  though  the 
spirit  of  deviltry  is  not  yet  eliminated  from  boy 
hood  and  will  not  be  for  ages  to  come.  Why  a 
healthy  boy  is  so  full  of  it,  is  more  than  I  can 
comprehend.  Up  to  a  certain  age  they  do  not 
seem  to  sense  what  is  cruel  or  wrong,  and  some  of 
them,  I  am  pained  to  say,  seem  destitute  of  all 
feeling,  pity  or  sympathy.  It  is  not  so  with  little 
girls  of  the  same  age  and  why  should  it  be  with 
boys?  It  is  comforting  to  think  that  it  will  not 
be  ages  hence,  when  the  proclivities  of  our  ances 
tors  are  more  fully  eliminated  from  our  natures.  I 
hope  the  farmer  boys  of  today,  have  already 
reached  a  point,  where  they  do  not  play  so 
harshly,  or  do  such  cruel  things  as  I  have  related 
herein. 

ZTbe  2>o0  anb  tbe  Cow0**£btetle0  in  pasture 

I  suppose  there  are  thistles  in  the  cow  pasture 
still.  Anything  that  is  mean  seems  to  thrive  and 
live.  Good  things  have  to  be  cultivated  and 
looked  after  with  great  care.  It  always  seemed 
to  me  that  this  is  wrong — that  the  law  of  nature 
should  be  just  the  reverse.  But  it  is  not,  no  doubt 
for  some  good  purpose. 

When  late  afternoon  comes  on  I  suppose  the 
boys  today  still  start  out,  whistling  for  the  shep 
herd  dog  who  comes  bounding  to  you,  jumping 


&fi&  -;>>  4 


»<#i*  *" 


BOY  INSIDE   BARREL 


BOY    AFTER    COWS— THISTLES    IN    FEET 


Dog  and  the  Cows — Thistles  in  Pasture    353 

upon  and  often  tumbling  you  over,  so  happy  to 
take  a  trip  that  he  can't  contain  himself.  And 
don't  you  get  up  a  little  mad,  and  throw  sticks 
and  stones  at  him?  And  doesn't  he  run  away  drop 
his  tail  and  look  appealingly  at  you  sidewise,  say 
ing,  though  your  youthful  mind  does  not  catch  it, 
"  Don't  be  provoked  at  me.  Don't  throw  stones. 
I  like  you,  and  I  am  so  pleased  to  go  with  you 
that  I  wanted  to  tell  you.  I  can't  talk,  and  so  I 
have  to  express  myself  by  my  actions."  Don't 
you  think  that  next  to  mother,  you  will  find  no 
more  true  and  loyal  friend  than  the  dog?  Did  you 
ever  read  the  couplet  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  on  the 
dog  that  went  away  on  a  tramp  with  his  master 
who  took  suddenly  sick  back  in  the  hills  and  laid 
down  and  died?  The  dog  stayed  by,  nosed  his 
face,  watched  him  for  a  movement  long  and  weary 
hours  and  nights,  and  died  by  him  of  starvation. 
John  Fiske  says  it  is  the  saddest  and  most  path 
etic  ever  penned. 

"  How  long  didst  thou  think  his   silence  was  slumber? 
"  How  oft  didst  thou  start  when   the  wind  stirred  his  gar 
ments?  " 

In  the  last  few  years  I  have  read  of  three  similar 
cases,  showing  that  the  case  of  which  Scott  wrote 
was  not  an  isolated  one.  So  don't  throw  stones 
nor  wantonly  hurt  the  dog. 

Though  you  stone  him,  as  you  start  out,  doesn  't 
he  follow  or  run  ahead  out  of  reach,  then  run  play 
fully  back  to  see  if  you  are  still  cross?  If  he  had 
been  a  boy  and  you  had  thrown  stones  at  him  he 


354  Letters-Essays 


would  not  have  gone  with  you.  He  would  have 
told  you  to  go  and  get  the  cows  alone. 

Is  there  not  now  a  main  cow  path  from  the 
barn  yard  well  out  into  the  fields,  and  then  does 
it  not  take  on  many  branches,  all  growing 
fainter  till  they  are  lost?  Don't  you  follow  the 
main  one  as  far  as  it  goes  and  then  the  largest 
branch,  because  of  the  smoother  walking,  and  to 
keep  free  from  the  thistles  1  And  when  you  come 
to  a  depression  in  the  path  filled  with  water  after 
a  rain  do  you  not  with  your  bare  feet  and  bare 
legs  nearly  up  to  the  knee,  run  through  the  water 
backwards  and  forwards  making  it  splash  and 
dirty,  forgetting  for  a  time  your  errand  and  when 
it  comes  to  you,  do  you  not  run  to  make  up  lost 
time?  And  if  you  come  to  another  puddle  don't 
you  forget  all  about  your  lost  time  and  go  through 
the  same  performance  I 

As  you  go  listlessly  along  do  you  whistle  and 
throw  stones  at  the  little  yellow  birds,  ground 
birds  and  bobolinks  sitting  on  the  stakes  of  the 
fence?  I  hope  you  do  not.  I  trust  the  boys  are 
now  better  than  when  I  was  a  boy.  I  regret  to  say 
we  were  doing  it  a  great  deal,  but  as  I  recall  with 
pleasure  we  seldom  ever  hit  one  of  them.  It  is  a 
shame.  They  all  gladden  the  field  with  song 
and  make  it  cheerful. 

When  you  reach  the  cows  are  you  not  hoping 
they  will  be  in  a  bunch,  and  do  you  not  always 
find  them  greatly  spread  out  on  the  rear  line? 
That  seems  to  me  the  way  I  always  found  them. 


Dog  and  the  Cows — Thistles  in  Pasture    355 

When  you  get  full  sight  of  them,  do  you  not  begin 
to  plan  what  is  your  best  course  to  pursue  to 
gather  them  into  a  bunch?  You  know  the  traits  of 
each  cow,  which  timid,  which  afraid  of  the  dog, 
which  dull  and  slow  to  start,  and  don't  you 
plan  accordingly?  We  did  so  fifty  years  ago. 
And  don't  you  send  the  dog  after  the  dull 
and  slow  ones?  They  don't  much  mind  him, 
just  turning  as  they  move  along,  and  shaking 
their  heads  at  him  just  enough  to  keep  him 
from  biting  their  heels.  As  you  yourself  cut 
over  to  the  right  to  start  up  a  cow  and  when 
started,  over  to  the  left  to  start  another,  cry 
ing  out  all  the  while  to  them  to  move,  the 
dog  flying  hither  and  thither,  all  animation, 
and  wishing  you  would  give  him  an  order  to  go 
and  bite  their  heels,  don't  you  forget  father's 
order  not  to  set  the  dog  on  the  cows,  and  do  it 
every  now  and  then?  I  did.  And  when  running 
about  the  field,  don 't  you  now  and  then  and  pretty 
often  get  thistles  in  your  feet,  and  don't  they 
make  you  cross  and  cry  betimes?  Are  they  not 
so  bad  sometimes  that  you  have  to  sit  down,  let 
the  cows  go  for  awhile,  pull  the  injured  foot  as 
far  up  the  other  leg  as  possible,  bend  away  over 
and  make  a  long  inspection  for  the  object  of  your 
trouble?  It  was  often  the  case  when  I  was  a  boy. 
And  if  you  are  some  little  time  at  it,  doesn't  the 
dog  come  to  you  and  kiss  you  as  you  sit  there, 
and  stay  with  you  till  it  is  over?  And  when  you 
start  off  again,  don't  you  sob  a  little  and  go  prac- 


356  Letters-Essays 


tically  on  one  foot  for  awhile  f  0,  the  thistles,  how 
I  hated  them.  But  for  them  it  would  have  been 
fun  to  take  the  dog  and  go  after  the  cows.  Per 
haps  the  cows  come  to  the  barn  now  without  the 
use  of  the  boy  and  the  dog.  A  feed  of  meal  may 
bring  them,  or  perhaps  the  boys  now  wear  shoes. 
I  hope  so,  if  there  are  thistles. 

Sore  Coe0**Stone  Bruises 

I  wonder  if  the  boys  of  today  know  anything 
about  sore  toes  and  stone  bruises.  They  were 
common,  years  ago  and  the  latter  was  a  painful 
and  most  troublesome  affair.  The  sore  toes  came 
almost  entirely  from  stubbing  them.  If  one  got 
stubbed  a  little,  that  one  was  sure  to  get  hit  again 
and  make  it  worse.  A  pack  of  boys  could  not  take 
much  of  a  run  without  at  least  one  of  them  stub 
bing  his  toe,  often  compelling  him  to  sit  down 
and  look  it  over  and  nurse  it,  the  other  boys  going 
on,  and,  unlike  the  dog,  leaving  him  to  his  fate. 
Sometimes  it  would  be  so  bad  he  would  go  back 
home  to  his  mother.  In  her  there  was  always  a 
friend.  In  most  of  cases  he  would  soon  get  up 
and  follow  on,  half  limping  and  half  jumping. 
When  reaching  the  others,  one  of  them,  if  he 
thought  of  it,  might  ask:  "  What  was  the 
matter?  Stub  your  toe?  Oh,  that  is  nothing. " 
Most  every  boy  then  had  one  or  more  toes  band 
aged,  done  up  by  his  mother,  all  the  while.  A  boy 
without  a  toe  wound  up  was  the  exception. 


Sore  Toes — Stone  Bruises  357 

And  this  reminds  me  of  the  story  Mr.  Lincoln 
used  to  tell.  A  stranger  on  the  highway  came  to  a 
boy  who  was  in  sore  distress  and  inquired : '  *  What 
is  the  matter?  "  and  the  boy  replied:  "  0,  I 
stumped  my  toe  and  it  hurts  too  much  to  laugh  and 
I  am  too  big  to  cry."  Many  a  boy  was  in  that  fix. 

But  the  stone  bruise  was  another  thing  alto 
gether.  That  was  usually  on  the  heel,  but  some 
times  on  the  ball  of  the  foot.  They  seemed  to  be 
deep  seated,  down  next  to  the  bone,  and  very  pain 
ful  if  pressed  upon.  It  took  them  quite  a  time  to 
show  on  the  surface,  but  it  did  not  take  long  to 
find  out  that  you  had  one.  If  you  made  a  mis 
step,  or  in  any  way  pressed  upon  it  while  running 
or  walking,  you  were  pretty  likely  to  sit  down  at 
once,  pull  up  the  foot  and  cry, '  *  0,  dear,  0,  dear, ' ' 
so  painfully  would  it  ache.  And  it  would  sting 
and  pain  for  some  time.  On  the  heel  was  the  pre 
ferable  place  to  have  them.  Then  one  could  hobble 
about  pretty  lively,  using  the  ball  of  the  foot, 
carrying  the  heel  high  up.  If  it  was  on  the  ball  of 
the  foot,  the  boy's  walk,  as  you  can  plainly  see, 
was  a  pretty  awkward  affair.  They  nearly  always 
culminated  in  an  open  sore,  but  this  soon  got 
well.  Mother  was  the  only  doctor. 

I  wonder  if  the  boys  have  them  now.  I  hope 
not.  I  have  not  heard  of  one  in  over  forty  years. 
If  they  do  not  go  barefoot,  then  of  course  they 
do  not.  If  I  knew  I  should  have  one  if  I  went 
barefoot,  even  though  I  were  a  boy  again,  I  think 
I  would  wear  shoes. 


358  Letters-Essays 


Woofccbucfcs  fln  flbe  Mall 

Do  you  have  woodchucks  still,  and  when  you 
hear  the  dog  barking  for  a  time,  do  you  run  about 
to  find  out  where  he  is,  and  when  you  spy  him 
down  in  the  meadow  by  the  side  of  a  stone  wall, 
all  animation,  sticking  his  nose  in  the  wall,  then 
suddenly  stepping  back,  wiggling  his  tail  vio 
lently,  and  barking  fiercely  all  the  while,  do  you 
go  on  the  run  to  him,  well  knowing  what  is  in 
the  wall?  And  does  not  the  dog,  as  he  sees  or 
hears  you  coming,  rush  away  to  meet  you  and 
then  back  to  the  wall,  repeating  it  till  you  reach 
the  spot?  And  when  you  reach  it,  do  you  not 
half  stoop  with  hands  on  your  knees  and  move  up 
and  down  the  wall,  and  when  you  spy  the  wood- 
chuck,  do  you  not  cry  out:  "  There  he  is  "  and 
proceed  to  pry  out  the  stone,  no  matter  though 
it  be  a  new  wall,  so  that  Sport  can  "  at  him?  " 
Is  not  the  dog  fierce,  and  does  he  not  get  in  your 
way,  and  do  you  not  have  to  take  him  by  the 
back  of  the  neck  and  throw  him  over  backwards, 
so  that  you  can  get  at  the  stones  that  are  in  the 
way?  And  when  you  have  secured  a  passage  and 
let  the  dog  in,  doesn't  he  often  get  bitten  on  the 
nose  half  pulling  the  woodchuck  out  by  the  grip  ? 
Then  doesn't  Sport  change  his  bark  to  a  sharp 
"  ki  yi,"  turn  about  and  rub  his  nose  with  both 
paws?  Then  don't  you  have  to  make  a  bigger 
hole  in  the  wall  before  he  will  tackle  him?  When 
he  gets  him,  doesn't  he  bite  and  shake  him  most 


Man's  Work  359 


furiously?  And  are  you  not,  as  you  watch  him, 
proud  of  Sport?  Do  you  patch  up  the  wall  or 
walk  off  and  leave  it?  Do  you  know  why  you 
are  proud  of  him  or  why  you  should  be?  I  don't 
think  you  do,  and  I  think  it  would  be  hard  to 
explain,  unless  it  be  the  animal  that  is  in  us. 
You  and  the  dog  have  taken  a  life,  and  with 
about  equal  pleasure.  Years  ago  we  did  the 
same,  but  I  would  not  do  it  now.  The  softening 
influences  of  time,  and  a  greater  knowledge  of  the 
philosophy  of  life,  have  made  me  look  differently, 
and  more  compassionately  upon  all  such  things. 
I  now  know  not  what  moral  right  I  had  to  take 
life  wantonly,  or  even  at  all,  except  in  defense 
or  possibly  for  food. 

flDan'0  THHorfe 

I  wonder  at  what  age  the  boys  of  today  are 
put  to  real  work,  not  the  plowing  or  the  chop 
ping  of  wood,  but  picking  stones,  piling  wood, 
dragging,  raking  hay  and  milking.  Years  ago 
they  were  put  at  such  work  as  early  as  ten  years 
of  age,  and  at  fourteen,  often  put  with  the  men 
hoeing  and  digging  potatoes,  cradling,  binding 
grain,  pitching  hay  and  many  other  farm  labors. 
I  now  think  they  were  put  at  heavy  labor  at  a 
too  young  age,  and  trust  it  is  not  now  being  done. 
Then  it  was  claimed  that  it  was  good  for  the 
boys,  that  they  grew  under  it,  that  it  built  bone 
and  muscle  and  made  them  robust  and  strong. 


360  Letters-Essays 


On  the  contrary,  in  some  cases,  at  least,  I  am 
now  sure  it  stunted  growth.  There  is  not  now 
the  occasion  for  the  pressing  of  boys  into  service 
that  there  was  years  ago,  because  of  such  great 
advance  in  farm  tools  and  machinery,  and  I  hope 
they  are  not  worked  as  hard  at  a  young  age  as 
formerly. 

Mrestling 

Years  ago  there  could  not  be  a  barn  or  house 
raising,  a  logging  bee,  caucus  or  town  meeting, 
without  a  "  two  ol'  cat  "  game  of  ball,  or  wrestl 
ing  contest,  or  both,  among  the  men.  Some  of 
these,  like  the  Davis  boys  of  Stockholm,  Au 
gustus  and  Robert  McEwen  of  Lawrence,  Jonah 
and  Eollin  Sanford,  and  Eollin  Bedee  of  Hopkin- 
ton,  were  men  of  great  strength,  and  expert  at 
wrestling.  There  was  considerable  excitement  at 
all  these  contests,  the  people,  as  they  always  do, 
taking  sides.  A  ring  would  be  formed,  the  peo 
ple  intently  watching  the  contest  and  taking  part 
with  their  mouths,  telling  their  pet  as  he  would 
emerge  from  a  terrific  struggle:  "  Look  out. 
Don't  let  him  get  that  lock  on  you  again.  That 
is  his  favorite  game.  Don't  you  see  he  is  play 
ing  for  it  all  the  time?  " 

Many  of  these  contests  did  I  witness  as  a  boy, 
though,  being  a  boy,  I  was  not  allowed  to  get  to 
the  inner  circle  of  the  ring.  That  was  reserved 
for,  or,  at  any  rate,  taken  by  the  big,  strong  men. 


Wrestling  361 

Nearly  all  of  the  wrestling  was  what  was  called 
"  collar  and  elbow,"  though  some  "  side  hold  " 
and  less  "  back  hold  "  was  done. 

The  lads  would  often  gather  by  themselves  and 
have  a  wrestling  contest  of  their  own.  These 
were  often  quite  as  exciting  and  interesting  as 
those  of  the  grown  men.  I  heard  of  several  oc 
casions  when  the  men  became  so  excited  that  they 
got  to  fighting,  but  I  never  happened  to  witness 
such  a  scene. 

The  games  of  today  are  scientific  base  ball,  la 
crosse,  hockey  and  basket  ball,  all  harsh  and 
dangerous  except  the  latter,  and  only  played  in 
the  cities  and  larger  villages.  The  farmer  boys 
must  now  find  it  difficult  for  amusements. 

Aibout  every  evening  when  the  day's  work  was 
over,  at  every  farm  home  where  boys  congregated, 
there  would  be  wrestling  of  all  kinds,  and  jump 
ing  in  all  ways,  "  pulling  sticks,"  "  turning 
broom  handles,"  lifting  heavy  objects,  till  it  be 
came  too  dark  to  do  so  any  longer.  They  were 
never  too  tired  to  indulge  in  these  vigorous 
sports.  Wrestling  was  even  on  the  decline  when 
I  was  a  boy,  and,  by  the  time  I  had  become  full 
grown,  say  1870,  it  had  practically  disappeared. 
I  wonder  if  the  boys  of  today  indulge  in  wrestling 
at  all.  I  have  not  heard  of  a  wrestling  contest  in 
many  years. 


362  Letters-Essays 


Straw  USBefcs 

After  a  day's  work  and  these  hard  and  long 
wrestling  contests,  we  would  go  to  our  straw 
beds,  with  a  rope  corded  bedstead,  and  sleep  as 
only  the  tired  and  just  can  sleep.  I  wonder  if  the 
boys  today  sleep  on  a  great  bed  of  straw.  We 
did  in  years  agone.  As  I  remember,  the  tick  was 
filled  about  once  every  year.  When  first  filled 
how  "  swelled  up  "  and  high  they  were.  How 
we  used  to  sink  down  into  them.  My  brother, 
about  as  near  my  age  as  he  could  be  without  be 
ing  a  twin,  and  I,  slept  together  for  years.  We 
had  great  sport  in  those  big  straw  beds.  In  get 
ting  into  them  how  noisy  they  were  at  first,  till 
the  straw  got  broken.  And  then,  too,  a  big  straw 
or  coarse  stalk  would  stick  into  us  every  now 
and  then,  making  us  open  the  tick  and  get  it 
out. 

If  the  boys  today  are  using  them  let  them  be 
quite  content.  They  are  all  right — and  the 
"  breeding  "  place  of  great  men  and  women. 
More  eminent  men  by  a  hundredfold  slept  on 
straw  beds  when  boys  than  ever  slept  on  hair 
mattresses.  Simply  try  and  get  the  latter  when 
you  are  along  in  life,  and  lame,  and  stiff,  and 
need  them. 

I  wonder  if  the  boys  of  today  have  great  "  pil 
low  battles  "  after  they  go  to  bed.  Of  course 
they  do  not,  unless  there  are  two  boys  of  about 
the  same  age  who  sleep  together.  There  must  be 


Straw  Beds  363 


at  least  two  boys  to  have  a  good  time  at  any 
thing.  We  used  to  have  pillow  battles  very  often 
for  some  years.  They  would  arise  from  all  sorts 
of  trivial  causes,  such  as  a  warm  discussion  over 
having  one  or  two  comfortables  over  us,  pulling 
the  clothes  out  at  the  foot,  taking  the  other's 
pillow,  insisting  on  lying  in  the  middle  of  the 
bed.  These  discussions  would  bring  on  a  great 
scuffle  and  struggle  on  the  bed,  throwing  it  into 
a  greatly  mixed  and  dilapidated  condition.  One 
or  both  were  sure  to  land  on  the  floor,  when  a 
pillow  would  be  grabbed  by  the  open  end  and  re 
volved  till  the  twisted  pillow  case  made  a  pretty 
firm  ball  of  the  pillow,  when  we  would  belabor 
one  another  terrifically  over  the  head  all  through 
the  chamber.  After  a  time  the  chamber  door 
would  open  and  a  stern  voice  would  come  up  the 
stairway:  "  Boys,  quit  your  fooling  and  go  to 
bed.  Do  you  hear  me  1  If  I  hear  any  more  noise 
I  will  go  up  there."  Did  we  stop?  Well,  nearly 
so.  Angered  more  or  less,  there  were  often  a  few 
more  wallops,  if  either  got  a  good  opportunity, 
but  seldom  enough  to  bring  father  up  to  see  us. 
Well  we  knew  what  that  meant.  Those  pillow 
battles  were  great  sport,  since  one  could  be  so 
fierce  and  terrific,  knocking  one  another  over,  and 
yet  doing  little  or  no  harm. 


364  Letters-Essays 


AHUng 

How  we  used  to  hate  to  milk!  I  do  believe 
that  it  was  and  is  the  greatest  trial  that  comes  to 
the  farmer  boy.  It  is  so  quiet  and  so  prosaic  to 
sit  on  a  stool  beside  a  cow  and  keep  squeezing  a 
teat,  and  when  that  cow  is  done,  take  your  stool 
and  go  to  another.  I  suppose  you  boys  of  today 
are  put  at  it  as  we  were,  as  soon  as  the  grip  of 
the  hand  becomes  sufficient,  say  nine  or  ten  years 
of  age,  beginning  with  the  easy  milking  cows. 
Do  not  father  and  the  men  also  at  first  tell  you 
the  easy  ones  and  praise  you!  They  did  us.  Do 
you  know  why?  They  don't  like  milking  and  so 
welcome  any  help,  though  it  be  the  easy  cows. 
But  isn't  it  tedious  and  irksome  to  sit  by  a  hot 
cow  in  'the  summer  time  for  an  hour  or  more  when 
you  want  to  play  or  go  swimming,  and  especially 
during  fly  time?  We  used  to  milk  entirely  in  the 
open  yard.  Now,  I  hear,  the  most  of  the  farmers 
milk  in  a  stable,  even  during  the  summer.  In 
this  you  have  one  advantage  over  the  boys  of 
my  time.  The  cows  can't  walk  away  and  leave 
you  sitting  on  the  stool,  nor  do  you  have  to  fol 
low  them  up  as  we  did,  carrying  stool  in  one  hand, 
pail  in  the  other,  approaching  them  gently  when 
they  came  to  a  stop,  saying  softly:  "  So,  boss; 
so,  boss, ' '  and  as  we  very  gently  took  a  seat  have 
them  walk  off  again.  How  out  of  patience  we  did 
sometimes  get,  following  them  up  and  pleading 
for  them  to  stop!  "We  couldn't  whip  them  with 


BOY   MILKING 


TEACHING   CALVKS  TO   DRINK 


Milking  365 

father  in  the  yard,  and  for  the  further  reason  that 
if  we  did  we  could  never  get  them  to  stand.  So 
we  had  to  smother  our  ill  feeling,  and  that  was 
a  good  deal  for  a  boy  to  do. 

But  in  the  stable,  they  can,  I  suppose,  switch 
their  tails  in  the  milker's  face,  as  freely  as  in 
the  yard.  Perhaps  the  flies  are  not  so  bad  in  the 
stable.  I  don't  know.  When  we  got  a  good  swipe 
in  the  face,  how  mad  for  a  moment  we  would 
get!  It  hurts  a  boy  that  don't  like  to  milk.  I 
wonder  if  the  boys  now  tie  the  tail  to  the  cow's 
leg  or  put  it  under  them  on  the  stool  and  sit  on 
it.  We  used  to  do  so  often,  but  never  till  driven 
to  it  by  desperation,  for  the  reason  that  when 
the  cow  wanted  to  strike  some  flies  that  were 
biting  her  and  tried  to  use  her  tail  and  found 
she  couldn't,  she  was  quite  liable  to  get  nervous 
about  it  and  walk  off  suddenly,  making  quite  a 
mixture  of  milk,  pail  and  boy. 

Still,  we  got  some  fun  milking  out  in  the  yard. 
All  sorts  of  frolic  were  resorted  to,  to  enliven  the 
stillness  and  monotony  of  the  yard.  One  would 
naturally  think  that  while  milking,  men  and  boys 
could  talk  all  the  while,  visit  and  tell  stories, 
since  they  are  only  using  the  grip  of  the  hand, 
but  for  some  psychological  reason,  a  milking 
yard  is  usually  about  as  silent  as  a  graveyard.  I 
know  no  reason  for  it  unless  all  are  intent  on  their 
work  to  get  through  with  it  as  soon  as  possible. 
To  infuse  a  little  fun  into  its  dullness  we  resorted 
to  all  kinds  of  antics  whenever  we  safely  could. 


366  Letters-Essays 


If  a  hen  came  strolling  by  she  was  pretty  sure  to 
get  a  stream  of  the  milk  in  her  eye.  How  she 
would  run  and  shake  herself!  Oftentimes  it 
would  make  us  laugh  so  hard  we  would  fall  off 
our  stool  and  lose  our  cow.  If  no  hen  came  along 
and  we  had  an  opportunity  we  would  shoot  a 
stream  against  the  side  of  a  cow  opposite,  being 
milked,  to  cause  her  to  walk  off  and  leave  the 
milker  wondering  why  she  did  so.  At  other  times 
we  would  shoot  a  stream  high  up,  that  it  might 
fall  in  a  milk  mist  on  a  milker  on  the  other  side 
of  a  cow.  Another  trick  was  to  milk  into  a  fel 
low  milker's  pocket  when  we  could.  We  had  to 
do  something  to  relieve  the  stillness  and  monot 
ony. 

To  encourage  us  and  to  get  us  to  milk  with 
better  grace,  I  remember  father,  on  going  to  Ver 
mont  for  a  visit,  told  us  he  would  give  us  a  cent 
for  each  cow  we  milked  in  the  morning,  and  a 
•half-cent  for  each  one  at  night,  while  he  was 
gone.  It  was  in  the  fall  and  the  mornings  at 
daybreak  were  mighty  frosty.  We  were  much 
elated,  however,  and  asked  the  hired  men  to  'call 
us  in  the  morning.  They  did  so,  but  had  to  shake 
us  rather  violently  to  rouse  us.  We  sat  up,  rubbed 
our  eyes,  and  finally  told  the  men  we  would  come 
right  along.  When  -they  had  gone  on,  my  brother 
said :  ' '  It  is  worth  more  than  a  cent  a  cow  to  get 
up  <at  this  time."  "  Yes,  I  think  it  is  too,"  I  re 
plied,  "  but  father  has  gone  and  we  can't  get 
any  more."  "  Say,"  he  retorted,  "  let  us  milk 


Milking  367 

more  cows  at  night  and  let  the  mornings  go." 
"  No,  I  am  going  to  try  it  this  morning,  any 
way."  "  Well,  if  you  do  I  will." 

Accordingly  we  dressed  and  proceeded  to  the 
yard,  rather  dark,  chilly  and  frosty.  The  cows 
were  all  lying  down.  We  got  them  up  very 
gently,  so  that  they  would  not  move  away  from 
the  warm  places  their  bodies  had  made.  We 
earned  six  or  seven  cents  each  that  morning  and 
entered  it  in  a  book,  with  date,  as  father  had  di 
rected.  To  see  that  much  to  our  credit  greatly 
pleased  us,  and  we  resolved  that  we  would  keep 
it  up,  but  when  the  next  morning  came  it  was 
just  as  hard  to  rise,  or  a  little  harder.  The  nov 
elty  was  gone.  We  knew  what  it  was  out  in  the 
yard.  Brother  said  it  was  worth  two  cents,  and 
I  agreed  with  him.  We  dropped  back  on  the  pil 
lows  and  were  asleep.  The  men  kept  on  calling 
us  for  a  time,  but  we  insisted  it  was  worth  two 
cents  and  stayed  in  bed.  On  father's  return  our 
bill  was  all  evenings  except  the  first  morning. 

They  are  now  perfecting  a  milking  machine, 
and  I  sincerely  trust,  for  the  ease  and  comfort 
of  the  farmer,  and  especially  the  farmer  boys, 
that  it  will  soon  be  an  accomplished  fact.  Milk 
ing  has  become  the  hardest  trial  of  the  farmer, 
because  of  the  want  of  boys  and  the  scarcity  of 
farm  help. 


368  Letters-Essays 


Cburnino 

Another  task  even  more  irksome  and  tiresome 
than  milking  was  churning.  It  was  worse  than 
turning  the  grindstone,  since  in  that  case  we  had 
company,  the  man  grinding  the  axe  or  scythe, 
and  could  talk  more  or  less  to  relieve  the  situa 
tion.  In  churning  it  was  just  the  boy  and  the 
churn  and  the  churn  couldn't  talk.  It  was 
simply  turn  and  turn,  round  and  round.  These 
churnings  came  every  other  day  with  us  all  the 
summer  long,  but  less  often  through  the  fall. 
At  first,  when  young  and  rather  light  for  the 
work,  my  brother  and  I  were  both  put  on  the 
job  that  we  might  "  spell  "  one  another.  Later, 
when  stronger,  we  alternated  at  the  task.  When 
working  together  we  often  had  rather  spirited 
confabs  as  to  the  time  each  had  turned,  and  finally 
worked  by  the  clock,  five  minutes  each.  Then 
warm  differences  would  arise  as  to  the  speed 
each  worked,  the  revolutions  made  in  the  five 
minutes.  I  thought  I  made  more  than  my  brother 
and  so  counted  them,  and  called  on  him  to  make 
as  many  if  it  took  him  more  than  five  minutes. 
He  agreed,  made  the  old  churn  hum,  and  at  the 
end  of  three  or  four  minutes  said  he  had  matched 
my  "  turns  "  and  quit.  Fearing  he  would  count 
fast,  I  had  counted  them  the  best  I  could,  and 
did  not  make  as  many  as  he,  but  he  was  stub 
born  and  would  not  work  any  longer.  After 
much  bickering  and  some  feeling  we  gave  this 


Teaching  Calves  to  Drink  369 

up  and  fell  back  on  the  five-minute  period.  When 
he  would  '  *  soldier  ' '  I  did  also,  and  it  sometimes 
took  a  long  time  to  churn,  but  we  did  not  do 
much  of  this  when  father  was  near  by. 

How  often  we  would  raise  the  lid  and  take  a 
look  at  the  cream  for  a  sign  that  it  was  "  com 
ing."  At  this  we  became  quite  expert,  though 
we  were  sometimes  greatly  fooled.  There  were 
times  when  it  surely  looked  as  if  it  would  soon 
turn  into  butter,  but  it  would  not,  and  then  in 
desperation  how  we  did  make  the  old  churn 
hum.  We  got  about  every  churn  that  came  on 
the  market,  hoping  to  get  one  that  would  churn 
quickly,  but  we  never  did,  that  is,  one  that  would 
churn  quickly,  every  time.  Sometimes  we  could 
churn  in  fifteen  minutes,  and  at  other  times,  doing 
our  best,  it  would  take  two  hours,  and  we  never 
learned  the  reason,  why  the  difference  in  time. 

The  boys  of  today  escape  all  this,  since  'the 
milk  is  all  taken  to  the  butter  factory,  a  very 
fortunate  thing  for  them.  Churning  was  churn 
ing,  sure  enough. 

£eacbin$  Calvea  ZCo  Drink 

I  suppose  the  boys  today  have  more  of  the  work 
of  teaching  calves  to  drink  than  did  we  of  half 
a  century  ago,  since  now  I  hear  nearly  all  the 
bossie  calves  are  raised  to  the  age  of  a  few 
months,  when  most  of  them  are  sold  to  drovers 
and  shipped  to  market.  Don't  some  of  them  act 


370  Letters-Essays 


mean  and  stubborn,  and  make  you  cross,  and  do 
you  not  now  and  then  forget  yourself  and  cuff 
them?  They  did  to  us  boys  fifty  years  ago,  and 
probably  they  are  just  the  same  today.  They 
do  not  improve  as  boys  should,  for  they  don't  go 
to  school.  Do  not  some  of  them  learn  easily  by 
just  half  sitting  in  front  of  them  with  the  pail 
of  milk  between  your  knees,  sucking  your  fingers 
and  following  your  hand  to  the  milk?  Don't 
others  refuse  to  follow  your  receding  hand,  or,  if 
they  do  not,  don't  they  let  go  as  soon  as  the  hand 
reaches  the  milk?  Do  you  not  repeat  the  opera 
tion  till  you  get  vexed  and  all  out  of  patience? 
We  used  to.  Then  don't  you  put  the  pail  half 
over  their  heads  and  try  to  force  their  noses  into 
the  milk,  and  don't  you  spill  half  or  all  of  it  over 
the  calf  and  on  the  floor  and  then  have  to  go  and 
get  some  more?  That  was  the  way  it  was  with  us. 
In  my  time  only  the  boys  did  this  work.  It 
was  too  humble  for  grown  men,  and,  besides,  they 
did  not  have  the  patience  required.  On  getting 
your  new  pail  of  milk  do  you  not  back  the  calf 
into  a  corner,  then  straddle  his  neck,  set  the  pail 
in  front,  give  him  your  left  fingers  to  suck,  put 
your  right  hand  on  the  top  of  his  head,  gently 
lower  the  left  hand,  and  when  it  reaches  the  milk, 
slowly  remove  the  fingers  from  his  mouth,  and 
if  he  undertakes  to  raise  his  head,  do  your  best 
to  hold,  and  keep  it  there  in  the  pail?  That  was 
the  only  way  we  could  break  a  stubborn  one  to 
drink.  By  this  course  don't  you  have  to  try 


Killing  Calves  371 


many  times,  and  is  there  not  often  a  mixture  of 
struggling  calf,  overturned  boy  and  milk  pail? 
There  used  to  be  years  ago.  Perhaps  the  boys  to 
day  have  an  easier  and  better  way. 

IkUlino  Calves 

And  now  I  come  to  what  was  to  me  the  saddest 
and  most  painful  thing  in  all  my  experience  as 
a  farmer  boy.  It  pains  me  even  yet  to  think  of 
it.  It  did  not  any  other  boy  that  I  knew  of,  and 
I  often  wondered  why  I  should  be  so  "  chicken  " 
hearted.  And  it  has  grown  on  me  ever  since.  I 
am  now  more  "  chicken  "  hearted  than  I  was 
then.  In  my  boyhood  time  all  the  calves,  except 
a  half-dozen  or  so,  had  to  be  killed,  and  we  had 
a  large  number.  The  boys  of  today  escape  nearly 
all  of  this,  'since  nearly  or  quite  all  the  calves 
are  grown  a  few  months  and  sold.  I  hope  you 
are  glad  of  it,  for  it  is  not  or  should  not  be  a 
pleasant  job  for  a  boy  of  'tender  years  to  do.  I 
do  not  just  remember,  but  I  am  sure  my  brother 
and  I  were  put  at  this  work  when  nine  or  ten 
years  of  age.  As  I  now  feel  that  was  all  wrong. 
No  boy  under  eighteen  or  twenty  years  should  be 
called  upon  to  do  it.  It  has  a  tendency  to  make 
him  hard  and  cruel  of  heart.  The  grown  men, 
whose  natures  are  formed,  should  do  all  such 
work. 

My  brother  did  not  look  upon  it  as  I  did,  and 
it  was  exceedingly  fortunate  for  me  that  he  did 


372  Letters-Essays 


not.  Had  he  viewed  it  as  I  did,  I  can  hardly 
imagine  what  would  have  been  the  result.  We 
would  have  been  in  a  sorry  predicament.  As  the 
first  task  fell  to  us,  on  reaching  the  barn,  we 
found  the  bossie  lying  down  and  asleep  with  his 
head  turned  upon  his  side.  My  brother  tapped 
him  with  his  foot,  and  he  got  up  and  stretched 
himself,  verily  like  a  sleepy  boy,  extending  one 
of  his  hind  legs  as  far  back  as  he  could  reach  and 
then  trustingly  and  confidingly  approached  us  to 
lick  our  hands.  His  coat  was  sleek,  and  his  big, 
brown  eyes  trustful  and  confiding.  Slowly  he 
came  to  us,  thinking  we  little  boys  would  do  him 
no  harm,  whereas  we  were  there  to  kill  him.  He 
was  so  trustful  and  so  handsome,  with  those  warm 
and  kindly  eyes  looking  into  my  own  I  was  all  un 
done  and  could  hardly  speak. 

"  Well,"  broke  in  my  brother,  "  which  are 
you  going  to  do,  knock  him  down  or  stick  him?  ' 

Whimpering  a  little,  I  replied  that  I  could  not 
do  either. 

"  You  have  got  to  do  one  or  the  other.  I'm 
not  going  to  do  both." 

''I  can't  do  it." 

"  You  can  take  your  choice." 

I  pondered  as  fast  as  my  little  brain  would 
work.  I  knew  instinctively  that  there  was  no 
use  in  going  to  the  house  to  consult  father.  I  was 
the  older  and  he  would  order  me  to  do  it.  At 
once  I  reasoned  in  this  wise,  and  how  happy  I 
was  when  the  thought  came  to  me.  It  was  this, 


Killing  Calves  373 


to  wit:  When  the  calf  is  knocked  down  he  will 
be  senseless  and  won't  feel  the  sticking. 

Waiting  a  little,  my  brother  again  asked: 
"  Which  are  yon  going  to  do?  " 

"  Can  I  have  my  choice  for  all  we  shall  have 
to  kill?  " 

"  Yes,  I  don't  care  which  I  do." 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  stick  them." 

Accordingly  he  did  his  part  and  I  mine,  but 
well  I  remember  what  a  task  it  was.  The  throat 
skin  was  so  tough,  and  I  so  weak,  I  feared  he 
would  "  come  to  "  before  I  could  get  it  done. 
And  thus  we  did  this  work  for  several  years.  He 
kept  his  agreement,  though  I  was  fearing  all  the 
while  that  he  would  not.  His  part  was  far  more 
agreeable  to  one  who  could  do  it,  and,  I  guess, 
that  helped  him  to  keep  it. 

But  a  day  came,  just  as  I  feared,  when  he 
bolted  and  canceled  the  old  agreement.  There 
were  two  calves  to  kill  and  father  told  us  to  go 
out  and  do  it.  On  reaching  the  barn  my  brother 
said  to  me: 

"  I've  got  through,  you  can  take  your  choice 
of  calves." 

I  plead  and  begged  of  him  to  knock  mine  down, 
offered  to  stick  both,  but  there  was  no  use.  He 
was  both  stubborn  and  obdurate.  Nothing  I 
could  say  seemed  to  have  any  effect  upon  him. 
Getting  desperate,  I  told  him  I  would  give  him 
the  first  quarter  of  a  dollar  that  I  obtained  if 
he  would  do  it.  Mind  you,  that  was  quite  a  sum 


374  Letters-Essays 


in  those  days,  but  so  set  was  lie  that  it  had  no 
effect  on  him. 

Utterly  failing,  and  half  crying,  I  started  for 
the  house. 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  cried  he. 

"  To  the  house  to  see  father,"  I  replied. 

"  That  won't  do  you  any  good.  Come  back 
here  and  select  your  calf.  I  want  to  get  to  work 
on  mine." 

That  seemed  to  be  only  fair  and  I  did  so,  se 
lecting  for  myself  one  asleep,  partly  under  a 
sloping  manger.  Then  I  started  for  the  house 
again,  when  he  called  out: 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  father?  He 
will  call  you  a  big  baby,  and  you  are.  Oome  back 
here  and  kill  your  calf  like  a  man. ' ' 

But  I  heeded  him  not.  Reaching  the  house,  I 
found  father  at  his  desk  reading  his  paper,  when 
he,  noticing  my  discomfiture,  inquired: 

"  What  is  the  matter?  " 

"  Won't  you  come  out  and  knock  my  calf  down 
for  me?  "  I  inquired. 

"  No;  can't  you  do  it?  " 

11  I  can't  do  it.  I  have  begged  my  brother  to 
do  it,  offered  to  give  him  a  quarter,  but  he  will 
not  do  it  for  me." 

"  Can't  you  knock  a  calf  down?  " 

"  No,  I  can't,  and  never  did." 

"  Never  did!    How  has  it  been  done?  " 

"  My  brother  has  always  done  it,  and  I  have 
stuck  them." 


Killing  Calves  375 


"  Well,  if  you  can  stick  them,  I  guess  you  can 
knock  them  down." 

"No,  I  can't." 

"Why  can't  you?  " 

"  Because,  when  they  are  senseless,  it  don't 
hurt  them  and  I  can  then  stick  them." 

"  What  is  your  brother  doing?  " 

"  He  gave  me  my  choice  of  calves  and  I  sup 
pose  he  is  killing  his?  " 

* '  Well,  if  I  am  not  ashamed  of  you.  Here  you 
are  a  great  big  boy,  never  knocked  a  calf  down, 
and  can't  do  it.  You  are  a  great  boy.  You 
ought  to  have  been  born  a  girl.  Now  you  can 
take  your  choice.  Go  out  there  and  kill  that  calf 
or  I  will  put  girl's  clothes  and  a  bonnet  on  you 
tomorrow. ' ' 

This  nearly  killed  me.  The  idea  of  wearing 
girl's  clothes!  What  would  the  boys  think  of 
me?  Wouldn't  I  look  queer  in  them?  If  any 
thing  could  nerve  me,  that  would,  and  it  did  a 
little.  I  went  back  to  the  barn  with  a  little 
stouter  heart  than  I  left  it. 

"  What  did  father  say  to  you?  Did  he  not 
call  you  a  baby?  "  my  brother  inquired. 

"  No,  he  didn't.  He  told  me  to  go  back  and 
kill  the  calf." 

"  I  knew  he  would." 

I  got  the  hammer,  crawled  into  the  manger 
from  the  front  so  as  not  to  disturb  bossie,  peeked 
over,  and  there  he  lay,  still  asleep,  and  innocent 
of  his  fate.  How  glad  I  was.  I  feared  all  the 


376  Letters-Essays 


time  that  I  was  gone  to  the  house  that  my  brother 
would  go  and  wake  him  up.  Why  he  did  not  I 
could  never  see.  He  was  intent  on  annoying  me 
and  even  driving  me  to  distraction.  Such  an  op 
portunity  never  escaped  him  before.  Had  he  done 
so,  I  should  have  been  in  a  dilemma  indeed. 
With  the  calf  up,  and  coming  to  me  with  those 
warm,  kindly  eyes,  I  doubt  if  my  horror  of  girl's 
clothes  and  bonnet  could  have  driven  me  to  strike 
him.  Being  down,  eyes  closed  and  asleep,  I 
reasoned  that  I  could  hit  him,  and  he  would 
never  know  it,  pass  from  sleep  to  death  without 
conscious  hurt  or  pain. 

Accordingly,  I  got  my  hammer  to  swinging  in 
the  proper  direction,  when,  turning  my  eyes 
away,  struck  with  all  my  might.  I  had  done  it. 
There  was  the  usual  spasm  of  struggle,  but  the 
blow  had  done  its  work. 

That  was  my  experience  in  this  line,  and  it  was 
a  most  painful  one  to  me.  My  brother,  boy  like, 
told  all  the  other  boys  and  they  nagged  and 
chided  me  for  some  time.  I  presume  that  some 
boys,  and  nearly  all  men  who  read  these  lines, 
will  say:  "  He  must  have  been  a  tender,  chicken- 
hearted  boy  indeed.  I  don't  wonder  that  his 
father  threatened  to  put  girl's  clothes  on  him, 
and  he  ought  to  have  done  it.  * ' 

Be  that  as  it  may,  after  many  passing  years  I 
have  still  the  same  sensitive  feeling  against  tak 
ing  life.  Indeed,  it  is  even  more  acute  than  when 
I  was  a  boy.  Until  I  was  sixteen  or  so  I  was, 


Shooting  Squirrels  377 

like  nearly  all  boys,  fairly  crazy  to  get  a  gun  and 
go  hunting  crows,  woodchucks,  squirrels,  part 
ridges,  etc. 

Sbooting  Squirrels 

On  my  last  trip  of  this  kind  I  entered  a  piece 
of  woods  into  which  extended  a  rail  fence  for 
some  distance.  Sitting  down  and  listening  in  the 
stillness  for  the  noise  of  game,  I  presently  heard 
two  red  squirrels  on  the  fence.  I  could  see  them. 
They  were  chasing  one  another  down  the  stakes, 
along  the  rails,  jumping  from  one  to  another, 
chirping  all  the  while,  and  having  the  time  of 
their  lives.  Perhaps  they  were  brothers,  perhaps 
mates.  I  don't  know,  and  it  doesn't  matter. 
They  were  friends  at  least  and  enjoying  life  im 
mensely. 

With  murder  in  my  heart,  I  crept  slyly  and 
quickly  to  the  fence  unobserved.  They  were  still 
as  lively  at  their  play  as  ever,  and  too  busy  to 
stop  to  be  shot.  I  had  a  rifle  shooting  a  single 
ball.  The  thought  came  to  me  that  to  kill  both 
with  a  single  shot  would  be  a  great  accomplish 
ment.  Accordingly,  I  waited  for  some  time  for 
them  to  get  in  line.  They  finally  did  and  I  fired. 
I  ran  to  the  spot.  One  was  dead  and  the  other 
horribly  mangled.  Out  of  pity  I  killed  him  with 
a  club.  Suddenly,  as  I  stood  there,  strange 
thoughts  flitted  through  my  mind — thoughts  that 
had  never  entered  my  boy  head  or  troubled  me 


378  Letters-Essays 


before.  '  *  What  have  I  done, ' '  thought  I.  *  *  Isn  't 
that  a  great  piece  of  work  ?  They  were  supremely 
happy — happy  as  ever  two  children  were.  Liv 
ing  out  here  in  the  woods,  gathering  their  own 
food,  disturbing  no  one.  Was  not  life  as  sweet 
to  them  as  to  me?  Was  it  not  given  to  them 
by  the  same  agency  that  gave  me  mine?  What 
moral  right  had  I  to  rob  them  of  theirs?  " 

That  was  the  mood  into  which  I  fell,  and  those 
are  some  of  the  thoughts  that  came  to  me,  and 
they  have  been  coming  ever  since.  I  shouldered 
my  gun,  quit  my  hunting,  and  returned  to  the 
house.  I  have  shot  nothing  since. 

And  this  is  my  story  of  farmer  boy  life  half  a 
century  ago.  There  are  many,  many  incidents 
that  have  been  omitted,  though  I  trust  I  have 
given  sufficient  to  give  my  readers  a  fair  idea  of 
the  trials,  tribulations,  sports  and  royal  happiness 
of  the  farmer  boy  of  long  ago. 


trusts  anb  Combinations 


HE  question  of  the  near  future  is  trusts, 
combines  and  great  aggregations  of 
wealth.  As  they  shall  be  settled,  in  my 
humble  judgment,  lies  the  prosperity  and 
even  perpetuity  of  our  free  institutions.  If  they 
are  to  be  allowed  free  reign,  unlimited  sway  and 
with  this,  of  course,  unlimited  power,  so  great  is 
the  selfishness  of  man  (or  should  I  say  rapacity), 
that  I  see  no  escape  for  this  now  free  republic 
becoming  a  plutocracy  or  some  form  of  a  mon 
archy.  "Wealth  is  power.  Great  wealth,  a  com 
bine  of  mighty  capitalists,  has  the  force,  potency 
and  power  of  a  mighty  and  well  generaled  army. 
Great  wealth  is  the  mightiest  master  of  the  uni 
verse  today. 

The  plain  intent  of  a  trust,  though  they  always 
deny  it,  is  to  curtail  output  and  in  one  way  or 
another  command  the  market.  Within  a  few 
days  I  read  that  the  great  iron  'and  steel  trust 
collapsed  and  that  steel  rails  dropped  from  $23 
per  ton  to  some  $15  per  ton.  Where  are  the  lit 
tle  blast  furnaces  and  iron  mills  that  used  to  be 
in  operation  all  over  the  country?  All  the  little 
mills,  so  far  as  we  know,  have  disappeared. 


380  Letters-Essays 


The  great  flour  mills  of  the  west,  fifteen  hun 
dred  miles  distant,  are  able  by  their  volume  of 
business,  by  the  freight  rates  they  are  able  to  ob 
tain,  by  the  influence  which  their  vast  wealth  and 
power  command  in  a  thousand  ways,  to  place  a 
sack  of  flour  at  the  farmer's  door,  even  in  our 
inland  towns,  cheaper  than  the  local  mills  can 
grind  it.  In  consequence  the  little  grist  mills  all 
over  the  country,  which  only  a  few  years  ago  did 
a  thriving  business,  are  now  either  idle  or  doing 
only  an  existing  business.  The  shrinkage  in  value 
of  the  country  grist  mills  alone  in  the  past  years, 
because  of  the  mighty  mills  of  the  west,  is  many 
hundreds  of  millions.  We  do  not  know,  but  ven 
ture  the  assertion  'that  the  people  of  St.  Lawrence 
county  pay  Minneapolis,  Chicago  and  other  places 
annually  for  flour  and  feed  at  least  a  million  of 
money.  This  is  all  wrong.  The  people  of  this 
county  should  raise  all  the  wheat  they  consume, 
and  especially  all  the  coarse  grain  for  stock  feed 
ing.  That  community  is  in  the  best  circumstances 
which  comes  the  nearest  to  raising  its  food  sup 
ply  for  man  and  beast,  and  pays  out  the  least 
money  to  distant  parts. 

Then,  too,  what  has  become  of  the  village  shoe 
maker,  the  wheelright,  the  tailor,  dye  house,  etc.? 

In  the  march  of  the  race  they  have  practically 
all  disappeared  from  among  the  people,  been 
taken  up  by  great  companies,  trusts  and  corpora 
tions,  using  vast  means,  employing  the  most  im 
proved  machinery  and  thus  crushing  out  all  local 


Trusts  and  Combinations  381 

mills,  shops  and  individual  work.  Single  fac 
tories  in  the  east  can  alone  make  all  the  boots 
and  shoes  which  the  people  of  one  of  our  most 
prosperous  states  require.  Against  a  machine 
that  can  do  the  work  of  twenty  or  thirty  men 
what  can  the  poor  cobbler  do?  No  'one  will  buy 
of  him  and  keep  the  money  at  home  if  they  can 
buy  of  the  dealer  for  less  money.  We  'have  not 
sufficient  neighborly  unselfish  interest  to  do  that. 
No,  we  are  all  so  selfish  that  we  all  buy  where 
we  can  buy  the  cheapest,  heedless  and  thought 
less  of  where  the  money  may  go. 

Our  clothing,  woolen  and  cotton,  is  nearly  all 
made  in  distant  parts  and  comes  to  us  ready  to 
put  on.  We  pay  for  it  and  the  salesman,  less 
a  small  commission,  remits  the  sum  by  check  to 
some  great  factory  and  we  have  just  that  much 
less  cash.  What  of  it,  say  some?  Have  we  all 
not  a  right  to  buy  where  we  can  buy  the  cheap 
est?  In  the  abstract,  yes,  but  if  we  are  looking 
to  the  good  of  the  neighborhood,  no. 

The  tendency  of  the  times,  through  invention, 
machines  that  verily  breathe  and  speak,  quick 
express,  low  postage,  iand  more  than  all,  great  ag 
gregations  of  wealth,  is  to  make  all  rural  com 
munities  mere  dependencies,  hewers  of  wood  and 
drawers  of  water.  This  is  the  struggle  that  con 
fronts  the  great  mass  of  our  people.  Wealth  has 
triumphed  in  England,  France,  Germany  and  in 
all  the  older  governments.  The  rural  classes  in 
all  these  are  poor  and  wretched. 


382  Letters-Essays 


To  tell  us  that  the  great  law  operating  on  and 
controlling  all  animal  life,  including  man,  is  the 
survival  of  the  fittest,  that  the  strong  shall  feed 
on,  or  control  the  weak  may  be  true,  but  it  is  not 
very  comforting  or  assuring. 

In  the  last  few  years  a  new  element  has  en 
tered  the  struggle.  Our  country  being  so  vast 
and  so  rich  in  all  that  tend  to  make  a  prosperous 
people,  it  has  been  found  that  single  factories  and 
industries,  operating  alone,  could  not  control  the 
market,  and  so  of  late  years  great  capitalists 
have  been  combining,  buying  weaker  plants, 
shutting  their  doors,  thus  limiting  the  output, 
etc.  As  it  is  now,  almost  all  we  eat,  use  or  wear 
is  in  the  hands  of  some  sort  of  a  trust  combine 
or  monopoly.  How  far  it  will  be  carried  or  where 
it  will  end,  God  only  knows.  We  read  in  the 
papers  that  the  coal  combine  alone  took  last  year 
over  forty  million  more  for  coal  than  the  years 
previous.  Who  paid  it?  The  consumers,  of 
course.  This  village's  share  of  this  must  have 
been  several  thousand  dollars,  and  yet  no  one 
gave  it  a  thought.  So  we  read  that  it  is  with 
sugar,  oil,  coffee,  tobacco,  biscuits  and  a  thousand 
other  articles.  These  great  trusts  must,  by  the 
government,  state  or  national,  be  controlled  or 
held  within  bounds,  else  the  people  will  at  no  dis 
tant  day  be  in  bondage.  Is  not  the  prime  office 
of  government  to  secure  equal  and  just  rights  to 
all? 


INDEX 


Abbott,     Francis,      mention, 

325. 

Aching  for  War,  91. 
Address,  Lincoln's,   300. 
Alpine  Tavern,  278. 
An  Outing  in  Canada,  182. 

Boer  War,  Cause  of,  186. 

Mosquitoes,   188. 

Meals,  serving  of,  191. 

Cuba  Beef,  192. 

Snoring  in  Camp,  193. 

Birch  Bark  Conoes,  199. 

Sand  Flies,  200. 

"  Immersion,"  200. 

"Fiery  Furnace,"  203. 
Athens  Versus  Bull  Dogs,  149. 
Avalon,  port  of,  272. 

B 

Barbour,  J.  W.,  mention,  56. 
Batchelder,  Henry  C,  mention, 

13. 
Berry,  Miss  Blanche,  mention, 

276. 
Bicknell,  Hosea,  President  of 

Board,  54,  55;  picture  of, 

facing  page  51. 
Big  Trees,  267. 
Bonney,  George  W,  mention, 

52. 

Boot  Jack,  321. 
Boots,  Pulling  on  and  off,  321. 
Boots,  Red  Top,  320. 


Boy  Inside  Barrel,  347. 
"  Counting  Out,"  method  of, 

347. 
Brooks,   Erasmus   D.,   sketch 

of,  1'62 ;  mentiond,  52;  pic 
ture  of,  165. 
Brooks,  Henry  Gurley,  sketch 

of,  76;  picture  of,  76. 
Brooks,  Permelia  S.,  sketch 

of,  43;  picture  of,  43. 
Brooks,  William  H.,  mention, 

16 
Bull  Ring,  description  of,  247; 

picture  of  246. 


California,  sketches  of,  257. 
All     Crops     by     Irrigation 

Only,  258. 
Fruits  the  Main  Crop,  259. 

Calves,  killing  of,  371. 

Chapped  Feet,  341. 

Checker  Playing,  11. 

Churning,  368. 

Clark,    Simeon    L.,    mention, 
272. 

Clark,  Mrs.  Simeon  L.,  men 
tion,  276. 

Clarkson,  T.  Streatfield,  men 
tion,  52. 

Clarkson,  Thomas  S.,  sketch 
of,  143 ;  mention,  54,  55. 

Cliff  House  and  Seals,  268. 

Coasting,  327,  329. 


384 


Conkling,    Was    He    Invited? 

39. 
Cook,  Prof.  E.  H.,  mention,  53, 

56. 

Coronada  Beach  Hotel,  263. 
"  Counting   Out,"   method   of, 

347. 

Cows,  Going  After,  352. 
Cox,  Dr.  Henry  M.,  death  of, 

183. 
Cox,  James  A.,  mention,  272, 

276. 
Cutting  Off  Toes,  350. 


Dart,  William  A.,  sketch  of, 
85;  mention,  53;  picture 
of,  85. 

Doing  Chores,  331. 


Eastman,  George  L.,  mention, 

183. 

Echo  Mountain,  276. 
Ellis,  D.  Frank,  Trustee,  &c., 

54. 
Erwin,  George  Z.,  sketch  of, 

125;  mention,  42,  53,  183; 

picture  of,  12'5. 


Farmer  Boys  of  Fifty  Years 
Ago  and  Now,  311. 

Fay,  Elliot,  sketch  of,  99;  pic 
ture  of,  99. 

Feeding  Corn  to  Hens,  349. 

Felton,  Dr.  L.  E.,  mention,  52, 
•&6. 

Few  Farmer  Boys  Now,  317. 

Flag  Presentation  Col.  Jonah 
Sanford  Post,  25. 


Foster,   Mary   P.,   sketch   of, 

179. 
Frog  in  Tea-kettle,  346. 


Going  After  Cows,  352. 
Golden  Gate,  270. 
Government  Dyke,  271. 

H 

Hackett,  Charles  L.,  Trustee, 

picture  of,  55. 
Heath,  A.  D.,  mention,  196. 
Hotel   Del   Monte,    delightful 

retreat,  266. 
Monterey,  City  of,  266. 
The  Maze,  trouble  in,  267. 


Japan  and  Russia,  222. 

Japanese,  religion  of,  223. 

Japan,  isolation  of,  224. 

Russia,  government  of,  225. 

China,  doom  sealed,  229. 
"Jargon,"    in    counting    out, 

347. 
"Jumper,"  the,  330. 

K 

Killing  Calves,  371. 

Kirby,  Dr.  Reynold  M.,  sketch 
of,  302;  mention,  52,  182, 
188,  193;  picture  of,  302. 

Knowles,  William  L.,  men 
tion,  211. 


Land  Locked  Harbor,  263. 
Landers,  Abbie  S.,  sketch  of, 
307;    picture  of,  307. 


Index 


385 


Leland  Stanford,  Jr.,  Univers 
ity,  283. 

Lemon,  James,  mention,  55. 

License  or  No-License?  59. 

Lick  Observatory,  280;  pic 
ture  of. 

Lick  Observatory,  description 
of,  280. 

Lincoln's  Gettysburg  Address. 
When    and    Where    Pre 
pared,  291. 
The  Address,  300. 

Little  Deviltries,  345. 
Frog  in  Tea-kettle,  346. 

M 

Man  Only,  Wars  on  his  Kind, 
244. 

Man's  Work  by  Boys,   359. 

Mathews,  Isaac,  mention,  55. 

Maze,  The,  267. 

Mclntyre,  John  G.,  sketch  of, 
174;  picture  of;  examina 
tion  of  "Peel"  Willey, 
169;  mention,  183. 

McKay,  Dr.  James  S.,  men 
tion,  182,  188,  193. 

McKinley,  William,  sketch  of, 
206. 

Merritt,  Gen.  E.  A.,  mention, 
62,  53. 

Mexican  Bull  Fight,  246;  pic 
ture  of. 
Bull    Ring,    description    of, 

247. 

Matadors  Fighting,  Way  of, 
250,  251. 

Bull  Enraged  by  Spears, 
251. 

Horning  the  Horses,  252 
Swording  the  Bull,  254. 


Milking,     dull     and     dreary 

work,  3'64. 

Milking  for  Pay,  367. 
Mother,  110. 
Monterey,  city  of,  266. 
Mount  Lowe,  Ascent  of,  275. 

Echo  Mountain,  276. 

Alphine  Tavern,  278. 
Mt.    Hamilton,    seat   of   Lick 
Observatory,  280. 


On  the  Lawn  with  the  Birds, 

113. 
Oranges,  trees  of,  description 

of,  259,  260. 
Seedless,  261. 
O'Sullivan,     John,     mention, 

196. 
Oyster  Farming,  133. 


Painting  Rooster,  334. 
Palo  Alto,  city  of,  283. 
Pasadena,  city  of,  264. 
"  Peel  "   Willey,   examination 

of,  169. 

Pert  George,  mention,  55. 
Pillow  Battles,  362. 
Potter  Hotel,  266. 
Prayer  in  War,  72. 
Praying  for  a  Rainy  Sunday, 

333. 


Redlands,  262. 

Smiley  Heights,  beauty  of, 

262. 

Red  Top  Boots,  320. 
Reynolds,  Dr.  Jesse,  mention, 

52,  53. 


386 


Index 


Riding  Steers,  331. 
Rivalry  in  School,  3'24. 
Riverside,  city  of,  259. 

Orange  Growth,   center  of, 

259. 
Orange  (  Trees,    beauty    of, 

260. 
Lemon,    Fig,    Olive,    Grape 

Fruit,  trees  of,  260'. 
Seedless  Orange,  discovery 

of,  261. 
Robinson,    Guy    E.,    mention, 

189. 

Russell,     Judge     Leslie     W., 
sketch  of,  214,  picture  of. 

S 

San  Diego,  city  of,  263. 
Land  Locked  Harbor,  263. 
Coronada  Beach  Hotel,  263, 

Surf  at,  263,  264. 
Sanford,   Col.   Jonah,    sketch 

of,  26;   picture  of. 
Sanford,  Jonah,  Jr.,  sketch  of, 
34;   picture  of;   mention, 
31. 

Santa  Cataline  Island,  271. 
Government     Dyke,      271; 
Small    Boat    and     Deep 
Swells,    272;    Avalon,    a 
nook  in  Island,  272. 
Seals,  feeding1  of,  273. 
Sea  Gulls  and   Pelicans, 
273. 
Tuna,  fishing  grounds  for, 

274. 

Santa  Barbara,  265. 
Potter  Hotel,  266. 
Santa  Cruz,  267;   Big  Trees, 
267,  268. 


San    Jose,    city    of,    starting 
point    for   Mt.   Hamilton, 
280. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  couplet  of, 

353. 
Seals  at  Cliff  House,  268. 

Feeding  of,  at  Avalon,  273. 
Sewers    and   Board   of   Trus 
tees,  46. 

Shooting  Does,  80. 
Shooting  Squirrels,  377. 
"Sitting"     with    Dr.     Henry 

Slade,  15. 
Smiley    Heights,    beauty    of, 

262. 

Snell,  Hollis,  mention,  52. 
Snow  Drifts  Years  Ago,  323. 
Snow  Forts,  327. 
Sore  Toes,  356. 
Sorrowing  Woman,  statue  of, 

284. 

Spelling  Class,  picture  of,  324. 
Spider  and  Man,  233. 
Spider,  skill  of,  233. 
A  Cruel  Demon,  234. 
Man,  complacency  of,  235. 
Might.    Is  it  a  Divine  Prin 
ciple?  233. 
Warfare  the  Rule  in  Animal 

Life,  238. 
Nature  helps  the  Weaker, 

240. 

Slaughter  by  Man,  241. 
Should   Man   Kill   to   Eat? 

242,  243. 
Man    Only,    Wars    on    his 

Kind,  244. 
Stanford  University,  trip  to, 

283. 

Statue    of    Sorrowing    Wo 
man,  284. 


Index 


387 


Stone  Bruises,  3&6. 

Story,    Harvey    M.,    mention, 

55. 

Straw  Beds,  362. 
Struggle  to  Live,  113. 
Swift,  Theo.  H.,  mention,  183. 
Swimming  Hole,  The,   344. 


Tappan,  Charles  O.,  sketch  of 
156;  picture  of;  mention, 
52,  53,  55. 

Tappan,  Ogden  H.,  Great 
Work  on  Board  of 
Health,  56. 

Teaching  Calves  to  Drink, 
369;  picture  of. 

The  Dogs  and  the  Cows,  352. 

The  "Jumper,"  330. 

Thistles  in  Pasture,  352;  pic 
ture  of  boy. 

Trusts  and  Combinations,  379. 

Tuna,  fishing  grounds  for,  274. 

Two  Boys  in  Church,  315. 


Vance,  Carrol,  mention,  81. 
Vance,  John  A.,  mention,  53. 


W 

Wadleigh,  Luther  E.,  mention, 

55. 
Walling,  William  H.,  Trustee, 

&c.,  54,  55;  picture  of,  54. 
War,  Aching  for,  91. 
War.    Is  it  a  Divine  Method? 

222. 

War.    Will  it  ever  cease?  105. 
Was  Conkling  Invited?  39. 
Webster,    Daniel,    Power    of 

Presence,  211. 
Weed,   William  R.,   mention, 

134. 
Weed,  William  W.,  mention, 

52. 

Wherein  Lies  Greatness?  1. 
Whippings  of  Boys,  318. 
Whittier's     "  Barefoot    Boy," 

343. 

Will  War  Ever  Cease?  105. 
Woodchucks  in  Wall,  358. 
Wrestling,  360. 
"Wright,  George  S.,  sketch  of, 

286;  picture  of. 


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